


Skitter Stripper

by WestOrEast



Category: Worm - Wildbow
Genre: Cumsharing, F/F, F/M, Gangbang, Het, Lacation, Moral corruption, Multi, Orgy, Porn With Plot, Sex Toys, Threesome, Titjob, Wedding Dress, Yuri, blowjob, butt plug, lap dance, striptease
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2018-09-20 04:03:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 129,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9474920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WestOrEast/pseuds/WestOrEast
Summary: Before her first night out as a superhero, Taylor finds herself in a stripclub. Needing money for her new career, how far will she go to get it?





	1. Chapter 1

I clasped my belt closed and let my shirt drop over it, hiding it from sight. My preparations finished, I left my house, stepping out into the frigid winter air. I started at a jog down the road, heading east. As I got farther away from home, I could feel my control over the black widows on the basement slipping. Still, all that meant was that they’d keep on doing what I’d told them to, not that they’d stop. A good thing too, since my costume was proving so difficult to make.

 

I’d wasted more silk than would actually go into my costume, trying to figure out how to make it wearable, and actually fit a human, rather than The Incredible Blob. I thought I’d finally found a way to make the spiders weave it correctly, but I wasn’t going to make more than a glove right now until I was sure it worked right.

 

As I jogged down the streets, the buildings slowly changed from houses to stores and businesses. More people were around, heading home from work, or heading from home to a bar. Or, in the case of the group ahead of me, heading from a bar to another bar. All four of them were staggering from side to side, almost falling into traffic as they passed a bottle around.

 

Wrinkling my nose, I decided to head down an alley in front of me, rather than try to push through them, or try to doge traffic. I started gathering more bugs, not eager to have to do this again. As they trickled in, I squinted, trying to make sure I didn’t faceplant in this dark, damp alleyway.

 

Faceplant, or… I could see a shadow detach itself from a wall in front of me. I couldn’t make out any details, beyond _big_. I slowed to a halt, knowing that was a mistake even as I did so. I should have either sped up and dashed past, or turned around and taken my chances with traffic. I didn’t have enough bugs to do anything, and I didn’t have a mask anyway. My belt? I realized I should have spent my allowance for this week on a knife instead of the chalk dust.

 

So, I was screwed. The man slowly sauntered towards me, and light gleamed off something metal in his hand. My breath started coming in short gasps, and I felt fear creep into me. When I’d envisioned myself as a superhero, getting mugged or killed before my first day was not what I had in mind.

 

I took a step back, and the mugger chuckled. As he waved his knife at me, I looked around, searching for anything that could help me. A patch of darker shadow, just past him, was the only thing that looked likely. Maybe another alley, that I could escape from.

 

“Okay, girly, your money-“ I dived under an outstretched arm as he threatened me, miraculously managing to roll back onto my feet. Like a shot, I was down the alley, barely slowing to duck into the gap. The man behind me was quick on the uptake, and I heard his knife slash the air behind me, followed by a muttered curse. I heard his footsteps pounding on the asphalt behind me as I ran.

 

Thankfully, it wasn’t just a recessed door. It went on for about twenty feet, leading to a heavy-looking iron door. That wasn’t good, but what was good was the woman standing in front of it, frozen in the act of pushing it open. A shocked look passed over her face before she darted inside and spun around.

 

She didn’t shut it behind her, which was good, as I had _no_ other options here. Instead, she beckoned me inside. I crossed the final few feet quicker than I’d ever run before, feeling the mugger right behind me. I got inside, and was almost clipped by the iron door slamming shut behind me. There was a resounding _clang!_ as the man ran into the unyielding door.

 

I’d fallen to me knees, like the man outside had also done, a fly told me. Part of it was that I was out of breath, part of it the adrenaline still racing through me, and part of it was realization of what had almost happened to me.

 

I felt a hand on my shoulder as the woman came to stand behind me. It felt warm against my chilled skin, and a small part of me wondered when the last time someone besides my dad had given me a reassuring pat.

 

“Hey girl, you okay? He didn’t get you, did he?” She had a low, smoky voice, and I turned my head to look up at her.

 

Even in the dim light, I could tell she was beautiful, with hair as long as mine, though hers was red and very curly. Her face was a lot prettier than mine, with a snub nose, high cheekbones, and dep, soulful eyes. I knew I’d never look that good, even when I wasn’t gasping for breath and shaking.

 

“Listen kid, you’re all right. Big Tony will smash anyone trying to cause trouble in here.” Her hand rubbed circles on my shoulder while she talked in a low, soothing voice.

 

I jerkily nodded, trying to get myself back under control. _Disgusting_. I wanted to be a superhero, and I had to be rescued from some gangbanger with a knife. Alexandria could take on a hundred pieces of scum like that with one arm behind her back, and I ran without even throwing a punch. _I’m worthless_.

 

My self-loathing was cut off as the woman lifted me up, hooking an arm underneath my shoulder. Through the jacket she had on, I could feel toned muscles, and the calves her skirt showed were pretty sturdy looking too.

 

“Come on, let’s get you to a chair and rest up a bit.” She led me down a poorly-lit hallway as she kept on talking. Repetitive, muffled music from somewhere underlaid her words. “My name’s Cindy, by the way, though it’s Candee on the programming.” _Programs? What?_

 

She pushed open a door, and we walked into a maelstrom of sound and activity. Squinting my eyes against the bright light, I saw half a dozen women- _wow_ , _that’s not a lot of clothes_. Half-naked women were sitting in front of big mirrors, putting on makeup and talking and doing their hair and laughing and shrugging in and out of clothes, all in a space not a lot bigger than the kitchen in my house. It didn’t take much to realize where I was. Lots of attractive, nearly naked women, with music like that? I was in a strip club.

 

The bright lights and loud noise were disorientating, and I started bringing some bugs in to help me regain my mental balance. Cindy guided me to a chair, that I gratefully collapsed in. From the pictures of her, and the small, brown bits of cloth shaped like Reese’s Pieces, I guessed that this was her spot.

 

My arrival was one more thread in a web of conversation swirling around about kids and the news and the job. One lady turned in her chair, shouting just to make herself heard.

 

“Hey, CJ! Starting them a little young?”

 

“Nah, there was some fucker out in the alleyway. Tried to rob her,” Cindy shouted back over the talk and the music.

 

“What? What the hell are we paying them for if they can’t keep the trash out?”

 

As Cindy filled in the other dancers on what had happened, with herself playing a central role on punching the lights out of the mugger, I cradled my head in my hands. The aftereffects of adrenaline, the noise, the lights, it was all getting to be overwhelming. I only started paying attention again when the conversation turned back to _now_.

 

“Seriously, should she be in here? You know how the boss gets about us bringing guests here.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll talk to him.” Cindy shook my shoulder. “Hey, you feeling better? The boss is going to want to talk to you.”  
  
I wasn’t, but I didn’t want to act weak, _again,_ so I nodded, stood up, and followed her out of the room through another door. Cindy led me down yet another hallway, past some heavy curtains that surely lead to the stage, and up a flight of stairs. While we walked, I used the time to bring in more bugs, getting a better understanding of where I was.

 

It was a fair-sized building, with a back half made of up of a warren of short halls and small rooms, contrasting with the open front half, which was just one big room, with three of four platforms for the ‘entertainment’. This early in the evening, it was still pretty quiet, with just one woman out, prancing around for a half a dozen men.

 

I clattered up the steps behind Cindy, climbing the narrow, noisy staircase. The upstairs of the club was even smaller than the downstairs. A few small rooms with beds in them and not much else, and one office right at the head of the staircase. Cindy knocked on the cheap plastic door and poked her head in without waiting for a response.

 

“Hey boss, got someone for you to see.”

 

She waltzed into the office, and I followed in behind her, not nearly as confident or comfortable. About all my bugs had told me was that there was a person in the office, and my head was filled with the worst visions of pimps and thugs that television had to offer.

 

It was a welcome letdown to see an average looking middle-aged man in a cheap suit sitting on the far side of a paper-covered desk. Not particularly skinny or fat, tall or short, the only really noticeable thing about him was how tired he looked. As he saw me behind her, he rubbed his eyes and muttered something.

 

“Another damn kid? What is it, Cindy? Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, this will just take a second. She,” she waved a hand back at me as I hovered near the door, “almost got attacked in the alleyway by some ganger. Figured you’d like to know.” The boss, whatever his name was, nodded impatiently and gave an exaggerated look at the clock.

 

“Right, right, I’m off.”

 

Cindy waltzed back out of the door, closing it behind her. I swallowed, feeling nervous. The man sighed, and waved to a rickety chair in front of the desk.

 

Sit down,…?” I sat.

 

“I’m Taylor, Taylor Hebert.” He grunted, looking straight at me for the first time.

 

“And I’m Lewy Grenson. So, you were mugged coming here?”  
  
I explained what had happened, obviously not mentioning anything about being a superhero. He silently listened, until I finished the brief account and had ended up in the dressing room down stairs.

 

“I see. Thank you for telling me about this. I’ll be having some words with the people who are supposed to keep us safe.” In this part of town, I knew, that meant one of the gangs. “Feel free to catch a show as an apology.” _Yeah, right_.

 

As I said thanks as genuinely as I could, I stood up, ready to leave; through the front door this time. Just as I got to my feet, Mr. Grenson spoke up again, with a more thoughtful tone.

 

“Actually… Would you be interested in a job here?”

 

My eyebrows tried to climb into my hairline as I stared at him in disbelief. Seeing the look on my face, he waved his hands and clarified.

 

“Not as a dancer, no, of course not. But one of my waitresses just quit yesterday and I need a replacement. Good enough pay, decent hours, what do you say?”  
  
What would I say? I needed money to buy equipment to be a superhero, and there was no way Dad could afford to increase my allowance. On the other hand, working at a stripper bar…

 

“I’ll think about it. Thank you for the offer.”

 

He nodded, and waved me out. I made my down the narrow stairs, and, following the information my bugs gave me, stepped out a side door into the front of the building. I came out next to the actual bar, with a cluster of girls who had ‘waitress’ written all over them standing next to it, chatting amongst themselves. _Well, talking to them might be a good idea…_

 

***One Week Later***

 

I pulled at the hem of the apron, trying to get used to wearing it. When I’d accepted the job, I’d been surprised that the apron was the only bit of uniform of Club Lango I had to wear. Otherwise, I could wear what I wanted. For the other waitresses, that wasn’t much at all, to maximize tips, but I was quite content with jeans and a t-shirt.

 

It was my fifth night, and it was surprisingly easy work. The… patrons were more interested in watching the women on the stage then watching me, and apparently watching other people strip didn’t work up an appetite. It had apparently been a slow week, so all I had to do was half an hour of work and three and a half hours of watching Cindy, or Candee, or whatever dance on a platform. Running water, soda, and what the cook called hamburgers, and I called ash pressed in a circle hadn’t been too strenuous. Rather unlike the moves the dancer were doing on the stage. I honestly hadn’t thought someone without powers could be that flexible, but they had managed it.

 

They also managed to get, at the very least, two-thirds as much money as I did. I was certainly making more waitressing then I did doing nothing, but I had my eye on a very nice, very expensive knife I thought could be useful as a superhero. It would take a while to be able to afford it, even longer than I was expecting my costume to take.

 

On the other hand, the thought of climbing up onto a platform and peeling out of my clothes sent a queasy feeling through me. And that was even assuming anyone wanted to see me half-naked anyway. I wasn’t half as beautiful as Cindy or Jasmine or any of the other dancers. Hell, I wasn’t as beautiful as most of the other waitresses.

 

As Candee pranced her way onstage, heralded by some obnoxious synthesized music, I grabbed my tray and started making the rounds. As she went from a small bikini to an even smaller bikini over the course of five minutes, I checked on my tables, getting a few orders for refills. After running the drinks back out, I stepped into a corner to watch Candee preform her routine.

 

It was amazing, both that she was able to shake herself to the cheers and wolf whistles of the crowd, and how good she looked doing it. Watching her flit across the stage, her toned body bending and stretching… I sighed, and shook my head. Time to get back to work. Jealousy wouldn’t solve anything.

 

A few hours later, my shift was over. I was clocking out in a back room, when my bugs told me that Cindy was coming my way. Sure enough, she came right up to me and leaned against the wall.

 

“Hey.”  
  
“Hi Taylor. So, like what you saw on the stage?”  
  
I stared at the wall, my face burning with embarrassment. Cindy laughed, her voice low and smoky, and patted me on the back.

 

“There’s no shame in liking other women, you know. Of course, the real question is if you wanted to do me, or be me.”  
  
I looked at her in surprise. _What? No, I, what? ~~Yes.~~_

 

“Me? Strip dance? I, I couldn’t. I don’t know how, I don’t look like you-“

 

“Oh honey, you think I look like me? That’s the result of bad lighting, good makeup, and strong booze. Trust me, I’ve seen a lot of women on that stage, and so long as you act like you belong on it, you will. You thinking of giving it a try?”  
  
My face was cherry-red now, and my stomach twisting at the thought of stripping in front of a crowd of strangers. Yes, I wanted to be a superhero, and they were in the public eye, but not like that.

 

“And there’s the money. I can’t count the number of times some buzzed guy’s slipped me a fifty instead of a ten or twenty. I go home tired, but I go home with a nice chunk of change, too.”

 

She slapped me on the shoulder as she nudged me aside to punch out as well.

 

“Seriously, think about it. We could use a leggy black-haired girl in the current line-up.”

 

She walked away from me as I stood staring at the wall, trying to decide what to do. I could always use money, and not just for the costume.  But I’d have to do to get the money… Oh god, I’d be mortified beyond belief.

 

As I left the club, through the front door, my mind was in turmoil. On one hand, it wouldn’t be for long. As soon as my costume was finished, I’d head out and quit working here. So, a bit of shame and embarrassment that wouldn’t last too long, while getting me more money. And the barbs and punches at school couldn’t hurt less than being in front of a crowd of strangers. On the other hand, that didn’t mean it would feel good either.

 

My thoughts chased themselves in circles around my head as I walked back home. As I got closer, the black widows in the basement lit up in my mind. That part, at least, was unambiguously good. I’d figured out how to weave the spider silk together, and now the only kink left to work out was figuring out how much of my costume I would make, versus how much I would buy. Well, that and actually making the silk, but time would take care of that.

 

As I got closer to home, I saw lights on, and Dad’s truck parked on the driveway. Well, time to go lie to him about where I was working. Because no matter what I decided, it would be a cold day in hell before I told my dad I was working at a stripper joint, no matter what exactly I was doing.

 

After a short talk with my dad, he went to bed, and I waited for a bit. Then I went down to the basement to review what my spiders had done today. It was a pretty complicated set-up, made worse by the way the black widows would try to eat each other once they left my control, but I was still getting a decent amount of useable silk each day.

 

Running my hands through the amount I’d stockpiled, I thought about how to use it. I didn’t want a super-heavy costume like what Armsmaster or Stoneskin had, but I wasn’t going to imitate Narwhale either.

 

Of course, there was no way I wasn’t going to be wearing something that completely covered me, but that still left some room to tinker. Color for one, and the shape of the armored plates I was making for another. And if I was going to have a color other than grey, I’d need to buy dye. It all kept coming back to money. As I daydreamed over what I’d look like in costume, I made my decision.

 

***A Week Later***

 

“And leading us off tonight is our new dancer Tawnee! Everyone give her a big hand for her first night on the stage!”

 

 _You can do this Taylor_. As my stomach twisted in on itself, I stepped forward thorough the velvet curtains, throwing my hips from side to side as I went. Getting a few wolf whistles as I strutted to the pole in the center of the stage, I looked over the room without being obvious about it.

 

Pretty empty, even for this early in the evening. _Good_. Even if this went well, I wasn’t really comfortable with this. But that sweet, sweet money had overridden my embarrassment enough to ask Lewy for this, and to get me into a costume that showed more skin than I had ever shown before. It was so skimpy and so sheer it was illegal in five states.

 

Now I was coming down a catwalk, moving with an electric beat, smiling like I was having the time of my life. I doubted I was that convincing, but under these lights and that drink, nobody was likely to notice.

 

Reaching the pole, I wrapped my arms around it and slid down, glad for the support. The week of training I had hadn’t really been enough to get comfortable in these very high heels, and I didn’t want to fall off the stage because I twisted my ankle.

 

Giving the stranger near me my best sultry glance, I slid right back up the pole and pranced around it. _Too slow, Taylor. Cindy would be on her third stretch by now_. Knowing that Cindy had been doing this for two years didn’t really help, but at least it spurred me on to kick a leg up. Cindy and Breanna and all the rest of the girls had assured me that my legs and my hair were my best features, and to draw as much attention to them during my routine as I could.

 

Flipping my hair, I threw my head back and kicked a leg out. Moving in time to the beat I shimmied around the side of the stage, shaking what little I had. As I moved in a circle around the small stage, I looked at everyone who was looking at me. There weren’t many of them, but some of them were smiling at me. I was just able to stop myself from scowling when one grabbed his crotch to show just how much he appreciated me.

 

I spun around and grabbed the pole, sticking my ass out and shaking it as the music played on. It was barely covered by my costume’s bottom, and the top didn’t do much more to cover my breasts. Still, at least the blue looked good on me, at least under the blazing, brightly colored lights.

 

In a seat right in front of the stage was a handsome black guy, who couldn’t have been much older than me. As I met his gaze, he gave me a smile and a thumb up. Smiling back, I reached behind my back and pulled on the tab that held my top together. Tossing it to him, I kept on smiling as best as I could as blood rushed to my face. I was topless in a room full of strangers, but I wasn’t going to stop now.

 

Grinding my ass against the pole, I felt the chill of the metal through my very skimpy and thin bottom. Going up and down, resting my hands on my knees, I imitated the moves I’d seen the other workers pulling off with ease. I wasn’t quite so comfortable yet, but on the other hand, the slow pace I was going at meant I hadn’t made any mistakes either. The slow pace also meant my breasts, such as they were, didn’t bounce all over the place like Candee’s, but, honestly, they were so small I’d _never_ get them to do that, no matter how fast I danced.

 

Over the next minute as I pranced around the stage, I was working my nerve up for the next big step. Losing my panties. As I twirled around, I hooked my fingers in the waistband and took a deep breath. _It’ll be over in a flash, it’ll be over in a flash, it’ll be over in a flash_. Bending at the waist and pulling down, my bottom slid right down my legs, and when I stood up, I was completely naked except for the heels and a money band along one thigh.

 

My face was burning as I forced myself to keep to the dance routine, waving my panties around one finger. Everyone in the room could see every bit of me, and I still had about three more minutes to go before my routine was over. Turning so my back was facing most of the room, I bent over, letting everyone see my shaved pussy. It was humiliating, and just a bit exciting, feeling people pay attention to me.

 

Feeling something brush against my thigh, I almost jumped off the stage. Cursing myself for messing up the flow, I looked down. The black guy I’d noticed earlier was pulling his hand back, with an amused look on his face. I could see a bill stuck in the band wrapped around my thigh. Giving him an embarrassed smile in thanks, I kept on dancing, the closing moves coming in sight.

 

The rhythmic, unchanging music finally grew a bit quieter, which meant my show was over. Letting go of the pole I was almost dry-humping, I walked back to the curtains, making sure to shake my hips as I went. As soon as the heavy cloth closed behind me, I was grabbed by Cindy, who my bugs had told me had been watching me the whole time. As Tifi, who was wearing an even skimpier costume than the one I’d stated out with, on a rather more generous body, brushed past me, Cindy gave me a hug.

 

“You did great Tay! The stage loves you.”

 

I hugged her back, glad for the support, and for the warmth. It was _chilly_ back here, and I could already feel goosebumps forming.

 

“Thanks Cindy. It was…,” I tried to think of a positive spin, “really something. Not what I was expecting, but… yeah.”  
  
As I trailed off, Cindy took over the conversation for me, leading me back to the dressing room while giving me praise, advice, and commentary. As we walked, I fingered the bill still pressed against my thigh. That was the real reason I was doing this.

 

***Later***

 

I slid into the bodysuit, the spider silk brushing against me in a very nice manner. As I fastened the cuffs, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. _Looking good, Hebert_. The bodyglove fit me like a glove, though the plating and belt and stuff somewhat obscured my figure, such as it was. Still, the lines and colors I’d mixed in showed that I was a woman. Nothing obvious like Black Bat’s “I am _very_ proud of my tits and ass” costume, but enough to show off what I had while keeping me safe. The muted purple edging, the contours on the armor, it all came together.

 

I met my gaze in the mirror as I pulled on the mask, the mandible-like faceplate tugging oddly on me. For the first time, I was in my full costume and I looked _good_. Not family friendly, but like a superhero who was ready to get down and dirty with the worst scum of the city. I wouldn’t be running from any muggers tonight.

 

Slipping out of the house, I headed deeper into the city. Time to start my first patrol.


	2. Skitter Stripper Chapter 2

 

**Skitter Stripper 2**

  
My feet thudded against the pavement as I started my first official patrol as a superhero. As I slipped through the back alleys and empty streets of my neighborhood, my hands wandered over my body, trying to adjust my costume to be more comfortable. The bodysuit fit my body oddly, at least compared to jeans and shirts. Of course, I figured I’d get used to it after a few nights. The chest part was especially off-putting, hugging me in ways that bras never did. Still, if it kept the bouncing down, that was good enough.  
  
I slowly left the residential area behind, and moved deeper into the docks. Relatively, at least. Brockton Bay was too big to realistically patrol on foot, and somehow, I thought catching a bus in full costume might draw a few glances my way. I was thinking maybe I’d need to buy a bike or catch a bus and head to where I wanted to patrol as Taylor Hebert, and only change into, well, I hadn’t come up with a cape name yet, once I was there.  
  
As I jogged down familiar streets, the corners of my mouth quirked up in remembrance. I’d come this way often, a couple nights a week, on my way to Club Lango. I was probably going to hand in my two weeks’ notice soon, since I’d bought everything I needed to be a superhero already. I wouldn’t enjoy saying that I was leaving, but I supposed it had to be done. And anyways, I laughed to myself, I wouldn’t be saying goodbye to _everyone_. The first time I’d met him…

 

***Then***

  
I climbed the cramped stairway to the upper floor of the club, my stomach in my mouth. I knew what happened in the small rooms up on the second floor, even without Cindy’s heavy handed hints. I’d turned beet red the first time I deciphered the information my bugs were sending me from these rooms. Luckily, only Cindy had been in the room with me, and I was able to brush it off as me being flushed from heat. There was more inventive depravity going on in these rooms between the dancers and their clients than I’d known existed.  
  
Standing in front of the door to the room my client was waiting in, I took a minute to steady myself. Waitressing at a strip club was one thing. Dancing at one was another. This was far beyond either of them. It was for a good cause, and I wouldn’t be doing it forever, but even once didn’t seem like something a superhero should do. On the other hand, where else would I get the money I needed? Just a few quick encounters, and it’d be over and done, and I’d have enough money to buy some supplies I had my eye on.  
  
Taking some deep breaths, I tugged the tight, mid-riff baring t-shirt to best show off what little I had. There was no need to adjust my very short shorts, since they were too small to get wrinkled. As I fiddled with the shirt, my fingers brushed against the sides of the pink thong looping up above my shorts. There was a word for women who dressed and acted like me, but I didn’t think of myself like that. Somewhat more calm, I knocked on the door and went in.  
  
The guy was sitting on the loveseat, one of two large pieces of furniture in the room, the other being the bed. It was the same guy who’d given me a tip my first night dancing, which helped somewhat. He still looked handsome, and he was still zipped up, thankfully. I’d heard some stories from the other dancers about times they’d walked in on guys who were already naked and masturbating. I bolted on my best smile and greeted him.  
  
“Hello handsome. Ready for your private dance?” I even managed to keep my voice even, though my heart was going a mile a minute.  
  
“Sure thing, Tawnee. I’m Brian, by the way.”  
  
“Nice to meet you one on one, Brian. Want to get started?” Inwardly, I cringed at the abrupt shift. I needed to work on my smooth talk, or at least get some good lines from Cindy and the other girls.  
  
I flipped a switch by the door, starting up some canned music to dance to. I was glad that Brian had only opted for the ‘Private Room’ special, and not the one euphemistically listed on the back of the drink menu as ‘Full Service Group Dancing’. There were limits to how far I was willing to go, and a two hour long session with at least half a dozen strangers was far, far beyond that.  
  
Turning around, I leaned forward, almost putting my rear in his face. I wasn’t wearing much more down below than I was up top, just a silver pair of super short shorts that were practically painted on. It covered maybe an inch of leg, and the top was so low there was only about an inch and a half of denim on my sides. Still, Cindy assured me it showed off my legs, and I knew I needed all the help I could get.  
  
I started my routine, and surprisingly little changed. The space between the seat and the bed was about the same as the space on the stage, so the biggest difference was that there was no pole to use. And anyways, I knew that up here, the dance was just supposed to be a brief warm-up to remind the guy why he had shelled out for a private room.  
  
Swinging back around, I went to my knees, landing in between Brian’s spread legs. Stretching out a miraculously unshaking hand, I laid it on his crotch, over his jeans. I could feel the heat, and see the bulge. Swallowing, I smiled up at him as my fingers searched for the button and zipper.  
  
I felt his warm, callused hand wrap around mine as he guided me on how to unzip his jeans. All too quickly, it was done, and it was time for the next step. As my other hand gripped down onto my thigh, turning my skin white, I snaked my fingers inside, looking for Brian’s penis. I quickly found it. It was hot, hard, and large. Gulping, I pulled it out, careful to avoid brushing it against the metal teeth of his jeans. While doing that _would_ end this early and let me leave, it would probably end up as a classic example of ‘out of the frying pan, into the fire’.  
  
Pulling his dick out into the open air, I swallowed nervously as I saw it. I knew I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be objective, but it seemed to be so big it was a wonder Brian could survive with that much blood going to the wrong head. It was a slightly darker shade than the rest of him, and the hand I laid against it didn’t even cover from the base to the head. A vein pulsed on the left side as I ran my fingertips up and down it.  
  
My face was only a few inches away, close enough I thought I could feel the heat and smell his scent. Thankfully, he washed, so it was a mildly pleasant clean scent, unlike some of the horror stories Julia and Brittny had tried to scare me with one night. A wild thought flashed through my head to lean forward and give him a lick, but I tamped that impulse down without any trouble at all. Brian wasn’t paying for, and I wasn’t ready for, anything heavier than a handjob.  
  
Not that he didn’t seem to appreciate it, though, as my hand slid up and down his mammoth length. A smile crossed his face as I looked up at him. From his view, his cock must have been covering half my face as I stared up at him. Cindy said I had a good ‘soulfully innocent’ expression with my wide eyes, though I didn’t believe her. Still, he saw something he liked, since his dick stayed hard.  
  
Deciding to give him something else to look at, I started swaying my rear in time to the beat of the music still blasting out overhead. I saw his eyes flick upward, watching me shake, as a satisfied expression settled on his face.  
  
“I take it you haven’t done this before?” The expression on his face was more gently amused now.  
  
“I, well, no. You can tell?” Up until right now, I’d _thought_ I’d been doing a pretty decent job.  
  
“Sorry, but yes. Your grip is a bit too loose. Squeeze a bit- yeah, that’s good. Now just up and down, from my balls to the head.”  
  
I blushed in shame and embarrassment as Brian walked me through how to give a handjob. Apparently, something so simple boys were supposed to do five times a day was still beyond me. On the other hand, he had stayed interested even with a bad attempt. Going down the likely list, that could mean that _I_ was the reason for that. That was a flattering thought, even if I didn’t believe it.  
  
As Brian told me what to do, his cock got even harder in my hand, like it was an iron bar I was tugging. The slit on his head was starting to get shiny, and as I kept going up and down, I saw a bit of precum start to ooze out, and run down his shaft. It ran through my fingers, making my movements slightly smoother.  
  
“Is this better, Brian?”  
  
I tried to pitch my voice to sound as innocent as possible, thanks to advice from Julia, whose most consistent stage persona was Jewls the innocent yet interested schoolgirl. Honestly, I thought that _actually_ being innocent would have been enough, but apparently, men found an act more appealing than the real thing.  
  
“Yeah, it’s feeling really good. Just a bit faster.”  
  
Brian breathing was deepening, as he guided me to right blend of speed and grip. He bit down on his lip in a way I found utterly adorable. Watching him react, I actually started to enjoy doing it. Seeing the power I had and pleasure I was giving kindled a strange new feeling in me, like but unlike the one I got dancing.  
  
“Okay, Tawnee, I’m getting close,” Brian said, his voice was a bit strained. “You ready?”  
  
Nodding, I pulled his dick down until it was level with my chest, pointed at the big V of exposed skin it showed. Speeding up, I looked up at him with the sexiest expression I could muster, half closing my eyes, and sticking the tip of my tongue out. He closed his eyes, and a shudder ran through his frame.  
  
In my hand, his cock twitched and pulsed as I stared down at it. As I stared, Brian came, jet after jet shooting out from his cock and landing on my bare skin. He covered what would have been another woman’s cleavage with his cum, covering all my exposed skin and even staining the edges of my shirt. We both moaned, him in pleasure, and me at the feeling of a man’s cum on me. It was warm, and thick, and sticky and slimy. It felt kind of good, the heat spreading against me.  
  
My free hand came up to touch it. I gathered some on my fingers, which also meant I spread it around my chest even more. As thick as it was, it was slowly sliding my chest to be soaked up by my shirt, making my skin shiny. Opening my mouth, I popped my fingers and found out what Brian tasted like.  
  
  
He tasted good. Gooey, and salty, but good. Looking him in the eyes, I scooped up the rest of his cum off my chest and licked my fingers clean. In my other hand, his cock twitched at that, but still slowly softened and shrank. After my mouth was filled with his seed, I swallowed, feeling his cum slid down my throat into my stomach. Remembering a tip I’d received, I opened my mouth to show that it was empty.  
  
Leaning back into the chair, Brian smiled and sighed. Reaching down, he cupped my jaw in one warm, callused hand. Running a finger over my lips, his smile stretched wider, white teeth gleaming against his dark skin.  
  
“Good job Tawnee. Thanks for having me up here.”  
  
I nodded, not yet ready to speak. My tongue was scouring the insides of my mouth, cleaning up what was left of his load. Swallowing the rest of it, I climbed to my feet. Reaching down, I pulled his pants up and helped him get redressed.  
  
“No, thank _you_. It was fun. I’ll always be up for a visit from you. Just ask the bartender if I’m working.”  
  
I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. As he left, I grabbed a tissue from the nightstand. Time to clean myself up, and then go see the boss for my share of what Brian paid.

 

***Now***

  
I snorted to myself at the memory as I ran. That had been my first time with a client, and it had gone pretty well. Just a few minutes’ worth of work for as much money as I made in an entire dance set. The next few ‘private dances’ were pretty much the same. I’d shimmer and shake for a bit, maybe with a bit of groping from whoever was paying me, then down on my knees for a few tugs. Easy enough, and nobody tried anything more, but none of them stuck in my mind the way Brian had. Probably because he was both handsome and close to my age, which was a fairly rare combination for Club Largo.  
  
I shook off my thoughts and paid more attention to where I was. Wouldn’t want to be the hunter hunted, after all.  
  
I was deeper into the Docks now, drawing closer to the sea. Derelict shops were slowly being replaced with abandoned factories, and there were more gang tags starting to appear. Mostly ABB signs, with the rest being sloppily painted-over Empire 88 stuff, or just plain graffiti. No signs of any gang members, though, just the usual Brockton Bay collection of the drug dealers, the street walkers, and their customers. I thought about trying to shake a dealer down for information, but all the ones I saw didn’t look much better than their customers. I’d have to follow a long chain before I found somebody or something worth nabbing.  
  
Deciding to keep looking, I turned down an alleyway, relying on my bugs to tell me if anybody started forming groups. That probably would mean ABB, and I could follow them until I was sure they were actually doing something illegal, instead of going to one Club Lango’s many, many competitors.  
  
After half an hour of fruitless searching, I was starting to get bored. My bugs had found a couple of likely groups, but they always split up or got into cars and left before I could get close enough. As my haphazard patrol headed into marginally better territory, better being defined as only a few street lights out per block, I realized I had to start thinking about how long I was going to stay out here tonight.  
  
As luck would have it, not even a minute after promising myself just another half hour, a group entered my range. On the far side of the block I was on, a group at least twice as large as any I’d seen so far was standing around outside an apartment building. My bugs could only tell numbers, not age or appearance, but in a city like Brockton Bay, that many people hanging around at this time of night probably meant trouble.  
  
Well, if they moved around. Ten minutes later, and the group of twenty or so was still there, and not giving any sign they’d be leaving soon. Or so I thought, at least. It was really hard to tell, relying on just my bugs for information. Luckily, there was a fire escape down the alley I was in.  
  
Climbing to the roof of the building, I slowly and quietly made my way across the rooftop, my soft-soled boots brushing against the gravel and debris left lying there. Peering over the edge, I saw the gang members standing in a crowd, talking to each other in low voices and checking their watches. Okay, this was definitely suspicious.  
  
The door to the building I was on opened, and someone stepped out. All the ABB members froze and turned so they were all facing the newcomer. A shiver of dread ran through me as I ran through the short list of unpleasant reasons a bunch of macho young idiots would all stop talking and pay attention to someone.  
  
My worst case scenario was confirmed as Lung came into view. Instantly identifiable, even as a human, the metal mask he wore shone under the street lamp, and the dragon tattoos on his bare torso seemed to dance as he moved.  
  
_Well, this is a hell of a first time_.

 

***Then***

  
_Well, this is a hell of a first time_.  
  
It was just me and Cindy in one of the bedrooms, and outside the window, the last of the winter sunlight was peeping through above the buildings. There was still an hour before the club opened, and Cindy had snagged me to give what she called some personal training. As the door closed behind me, Cindy leaned against a dresser and looked me up and down.  
  
“I’m betting you’re still a virgin, right Taylor?”  
  
I gaped at her, shocked that she’d bring up something like that so casually. I knew I was by far the least experienced employee of Club Lango, still having all three virginities, but _still_.  
  
“I-well, yes. So what?”  
  
My face was red and I avoided looking right at her. I saw, out of the corner of my eye, Cindy nod slowly, and step away from the dresser.  
  
“You do know that customers pay more if it’s a girl’s first time, right. Well, we all know how much a first time can hurt, so us girls have a little system.”  
  
She opened up a drawer of the dresser, and pulled out a slender black strap-on and a bottle of lube. I gulped, as my mind raced to what I was certain was the exact, weasel-words conclusion.  
  
“If any of the new girls still has a virginity, we help her. It’s not done by a man, so management can still charge full price, but this way you know what to expect.”  
  
I squirmed, embarrassed at the thought, and at the idea of losing my virginity, which was what this would mean, no matter how Cindy dressed it up. There was also the thought of what this would mean. Cindy was beautiful, yes, but was I attracted to her, or any other girl? I… honestly wasn’t sure. How much of the longing I felt watching them dance was because I wanted to be as good as them, versus wanting to be with them? I didn’t feel the same attraction that I did to Brian or other handsome men, but I did feel something watching Cindy or Julia or the rest of them. And there was a certain logic on what she said, albeit not one that couldn’t be solved with a dildo and some privacy.  
  
“I…, well okay. We can try, I guess,” I said, clutching my arm and looking at the floor. Cindy raised an eyebrow.  
  
“You guess? Taylor, I’m not going to do this with you unless you want it.”  
  
“Yeah. Yeah, I want to do it.”  
  
Cindy smiled, and nodded towards the bed.  
  
“Okay then! Why don’t you get yourself comfortable,” she said, sliding down her skirt as she talked.  
  
I shrugged out of my own shirt and jeans, feeling more uncomfortable with just Cindy undressing then I did with half a dozen other women naked. Of course, that was because the nakedness was just business, and Cindy was seducing me. I sat on the bed in my underwear, and watched Cindy finish stripping in swift, confident motions, before sliding the harness of the strap-on up her long, tanned and toned legs.  
  
She popped open the bottle of lube, and squeezed some clear liquid onto the head of the dildo. I watched the strap-on shake and sway as she walked towards me with a fascinated dread. I’d had my fingers inside me before, several times, and I knew that sooner or later something like this would happen, but now that the moment was here, I was getting the jitters.  
  
Cindy saw my nervousness and smiled. Climbing onto the bed with me, she ran a hand down my arm.  
  
“It’s all right, Taylor. I’ll do my best to make this feel good.”  
  
Pulling me onto her lap, I felt the smooth, cool length of the strap-on pressing against my plain white panties and bare skin. Cindy held my head and kissed me, her body pressed against mine. Her tongue slid into my mouth, and I moaned against her, feeling my stress and worry melt away as she held me in her arms.  
  
Cindy kissed her way down my neck as her warm fingers undid my bra clasp. Pulling it off, she saw my bare chest in the fading light of day. I looked away, knowing how badly my small, barely-there breasts compared to her full, firm set.  
  
“Oh, don’t look like, Taylor. They’re cute.” Cindy bent her head and kissed a nipple. “Nice and perky. Remember what I told you? If you act sexy, you _are_ sexy.”  
  
I buried my face in her chest to try and get the topic off my breasts, which were flat and uninteresting, no matter what Cindy said. Sneaking a hand up between the press of our bodies, I cradled the breast I wasn’t paying attention too. I thought she had the best breasts in the building, large and firm and topped with nipples that just begged for attention. I said as much, tearing my face away from her magnificent chest for a minute.  
  
Chuckling, Cindy ran her hands down to my ass. She kneaded it for a while, although there wasn’t much more there then on my chest. Squeezing it, her fingers pulled my panties aside, baring my center. The damp fabric being pulled away from my skin made me gasp as the cool air hit my warm, wet crotch.  
  
Lifting me up, she slowly, oh so slowly, slid me down onto the strap-on. I gasped, and clutched at her back as she lowered me down. The small size of the dildo, the lube, and my own arousal meant that I was sank all the way down to the base without any problems at all. It felt good, better than my own fingers, although… a few rolls of my hips confirmed that penetration alone wouldn’t be enough to get me off. I’d need some clit action as well, just like before.  
  
Cindy pushed me back until I was laying on my back, with my legs wrapped around her as she sat over me. Her position let her get to every part of me, from my head to my breasts to my crotch. Her hands wandered over my body, constantly teasing me as she slowly thrust in and out of me. I clutched the sheets, moaning as Cindy showed just how familiar she was with the female body. Teasing my nipples, rubbing around my button, all with the same slow, steady strokes.  
  
I moaned as I came, legs shaking as my back arched. Falling back to the bed, I lay there panting while Cindy’s hands stroked my sides. Leaning down, she kissed me, her soft lips warm against me. Sliding out of me, she rested the strap-on on my lower stomach. I stared down at it, it’s length streaked with my juices.  
  
“There, Taylor. I’m glad you enjoyed this.”  
  
I nodded shakily, getting myself back under control.  
  
“Thank, thank you Cindy. It was nice. Not what I was expecting, but, yeah.”  
  
Cindy smiled. before pulling me into a hug, my flat breasts pressing against hers. We rested there for a moment, luxuriating in each other’s warmth. I glanced at the clock over the door, and sighed. The club would be opening soon, and we had to get ready. Disentangling ourselves from each other, we pulled our clothes back on and headed downstairs to get ready to pull them off.

 

***Now***

  
My breasts pressed against the concrete edge of the building as I stared down at Lung, consumed with horror and indecision. Lung was a monster, who’d never lost a fight that I heard of, even against the entirety of the Brockton Bay Protectorate or the Empire 88. The ease I could sweep away the crowd of thugs surrounding him was matched by the ease he would defeat me in turn. Burn me alive, crush me in two, smash me against a wall, there were so many ways super-strength and fire control could kill me.  
  
This, this simply wasn’t a fight I could win. Lung was too much for me on any night, let alone my first. I started crawling back, shame at running without even a pretense of fighting filling me, as I heard him speak. The distance, and his accent, meant I couldn’t understand the first few sentences.  
  
“…the children, just shoot. Doesn’t matter your aim, just shoot. You see one lying on the ground? Shoot the little bitch twice more to be sure. We give them no chances to be clever or lucky, understand?”  
  
Children? He was going to kill kids? That, that changed everything. There was no way for me to defeat him, but that didn’t mean I could run. Who would I be if I let a supervillain kill children? Gathering every bug I had together, I sent them down to the gang, a swirling black mass cutting off the sky as it fell on them.

   
***Then***

 

I looked at myself in the large mirror, examining my body. My skin was warm from the bright lights above it, and I was constantly getting jostled by some dancer or another moving behind me, but I did my best to ignore the distractions as I studied myself. I was naked from the waist up, hardly an uncommon sight back here.  
  
Covering my breasts with my hands, I rubbed my palms up and down, trying to see how much they filled my hands. For the past, oh week, I’d noticed that the sports bra I wore when I ran was feeling tighter and tighter on my chest. Now that I had a spare moment to examine myself, I was sure of it. My breasts were finally swelling. _Fucking finally_. It was almost three years after hitting puberty, but at least it seemed I was finally starting to look more like a woman, and less like a particularly skinny boy.  
  
As I dropped my hands from my chest, and started looking over the make-up I’d need to put on before I went on the stage, I sensed something from my bugs. Lewy Grenson, the club manager and owner was coming back to the dressing room, and snagging every dancer that crossed his path. For such a small guy, he was moving pretty quickly.  
  
I made sure only to turn and look at the door he came from after he came through. Three dancers piled in behind him. From the bemused stares they were sending at him, I guessed they didn’t know what was happening either. I glanced up as Cindy sat down next to me, half pushing me off my stool. We were pressed up against each other, and I noticed that she was wearing a new perfume, a sweet floral scent.  
  
“Do you know what’s happening?”  
  
“No idea,” Cindy said, shaking her head and batting my face with her braided hair. “The boss grabbed me off the floor as I was warming up. Doors open soon, so I hope this doesn’t take long.”  
  
I nodded in agreement. In my experience, messages from authority were never good, and often outright malicious. In the center of the room, surrounded by a dozen beauties, and me, Lewy cleared his throat. The quiet side conversations died off as we started to pay attention to him.  
  
“Ladies, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news for you. I got an email this afternoon from the club’s supplier that the shipment of Provofil they sent us last week may be contaminated.”  
  
A low buzz sprang up, and I worriedly glanced at Cindy. Provofil was the wonder-drug we all took to make sure we didn’t come down with the clamp, the cramps, and any of the other health hazards we would run into ‘entertaining’ men. Lewy cleared his throat to silence the half-dozen conversations that had sprang up.  
  
“Apparently, some Tinker up north called Nurture may have fucked with their supply line. They’re sending a new shipment, but it won’t be here for a week,” I frowned. That was bad; the drug didn’t last that long, and it would be stupid beyond words to _entertain_ strangers without the protection Provofil offered.  
  
“Obviously we can’t close the club or stop offering private dances until it comes. So, until the shipment arrives, Club Lango will match you, dollar for dollar, any purchases of Provofil you girls get from local drugstores. And that’s about it. Come to my office if you have any more questions.”  
  
Lewy left, and a buzz of more positive conversation sprang up. I glanced towards Cindy. She rolled her eyes, and leaned towards me.  
  
“Goddamn parahumans. Always making life worse for us.” I carefully didn’t say anything. “You’re too young to know this, Taylor, but I remember a time when cities weren’t being torn apart few months by monsters. When a band of serial killers running rampant was a tired, tired Hollywood cliché. And now?” She waved an arm in frustration. “We’ve got Nazi’s taking their cut from us, and other bastards messing with our stuff. It really is a different world, Taylor, I’ll tell you that.”  
  
I shrugged noncommittedly. I’d never knew a world without capes, and for obvious reasons I didn’t think parahumans as a group were all that bad. I was debating whether or not to say anything as Cindy pulled her smartphone out from her purse.  
  
“Let’s see, let’s see. Nurture, Nuture, aha!” She cleared her throat, and started reading off the screen. “Nuture is a Tinker 5 villain, active in the New England area. She is most noted for her ideology and… Wow, this is one fucked up lady. Apparently, she gets off on turning people into something called hucows, whatever that is.” I nodded, listening with half an ear as I tried to remember when I’d last taken Provofil. “Looks like she uses a lot of superscience chemicals and stuff to get her victims like that. Well, there’s a nasty picture.” She showed me something on her phone that I didn’t look at too closely.  
  
I felt bile rise in my throat. I’d taken a pill last week, first one out of the package, and now… oh god, I felt like I was going to be sick. What if the pill was tainted? What if my breasts started growing? Okay, that didn’t sound so bad, but I knew there had to be more potential side effects then just that.  
  
“Let’s see… looks like her stuff doesn’t work usually. Apparently she’s too lazy to double check her drugs- Are you okay?”  
  
I swallowed, my skin feeling clammy as I spastically nodded.  
  
“Yeah, yeah sure. Say, does it say what the symptoms are?”  
  
Cindy stared at me for a minute before the ball dropped.  
  
“Oh God, Taylor. Did you-?” I jerked my head up and down. Her eyes widened before turning back to her phone, hurriedly scrolling through the website.  
  
“Looks like the most common reports are that their chest aches and itches, before the growth really starts. Also, headaches and irritation,” Cindy whistled softly. “It also says victims show symptoms in the first twenty-four hours, and the worst cases need a really strong dose. Taylor, should you be here? Shouldn’t you go see a doctor?”  
  
I thought hard about it for a while, as the music from the stage started filtering back to where we were.  
  
“No, I don’t think, no. It happens inside of a day, right?” Cindy nodded, a worried and dubious look on her face. “It’s been a lot longer than that, and I feel fine. I must not have gotten dosed, okay?!”  
  
My rising voice cut through the constant chatter of the dressing room, and drew all eyes towards me for a few seconds. Flushing, I lowered my voice.  
  
“Listen, it’s been a week, and I feel fine. My breasts have been a bit itchy, but that’s it. I’m okay. I’m _okay_. If I start to feel bad, I’ll go to a walk-in clinic, but I’m not wasting money when I feel fine.”  
  
Cindy didn’t look convinced, but she slowly nodded, eyes flicking back to her phone.  
  
“It’s not as if I can make you go, I suppose. And it does say here that,” her voice became stilted and formal, “’ Iron Sight was not affected by her capture by Nurture, as the supervillain only had time for a single treatment.’ I guess one pill is a lot less potent than a treatment, whatever that is. I suppose if you don’t want to go, that’s that.”  
  
She didn’t sound happy, and I didn’t blame her. Standing up, she gave me one more long, hard look before walking out to the catwalk. Behind her, I slumped back in my stool and rested my head in my hands. What had I gotten myself into?

 

***Now***

  
One of the gang members looked up just before the swarm hit. The distance meant I couldn’t make out his face, but his body language conveyed what he was feeling quite well. He screamed, whether in terror or alarm, I couldn’t tell, and it didn’t matter. The mass of insects fell on all two dozen of the ABB members, biting and stinging any inch of flesh they could find.  
  
The gangbangers writhed, slapping at bugs, or just falling to the ground, wracked in pain. In just under a minute, a pretty tough looking gang had been reduced to a collection of screaming figures. All but one. Even as part of the swarm fell on him, Lung stood tall and unmoved above all the others. He was sending long jets of fire up into the air, burning or baking by the dozens, even as hundreds more came in. He ignored my insects as they bit and tore at his flesh, injecting their poison, striding up and down the street, throwing fireball after fireball.  
  
Down the street, I could see lights come on in the apartment buildings. Lung didn’t seem to care, sending a jet of fire eight feet long at a clump of bugs, incarnating them, and continuing on to hit a building wall, splashing into a red flower not a foot away from a window. _Please don’t come to look, I don’t want you to get hit_. Lung was shouting something now, but I couldn’t tell if it was in Japanese or just plain rage.  
  
If he was calling to his gang, he was too late. They were all out of the fight, most of them curled up on the ground, with one lucky bastard running as fast and as far away as he could. Lung was the only threat left. It was hard to tell from here, but it seemed that he was growing larger. I sent the rest of my swarm to attack. He burned many of them, but enough got through his flames to cover him in a swarming mass of chitin. Two wasps flew up to his face and sank their stingers into his eyes. He screamed, and slammed a huge hand into his face, crushing them. Then every bug on him died.  
  
I flinched back, covering my eyes as Lung lit himself on fire. The bugs, his clothes, everything burned away in a blink of an eye. Striding forward, covered by flames, he set a long burst of flame into the air that killed almost every insect I had left. Through the swirling flames, I saw a glimpse of untouched flesh. He’d been wrapped in flames for at least a minute, and still seemed to be breathing fine. _Where is he getting his air from? What the hell is he burning?_  
  
Suddenly, he hunched over, falling to his knees. For a minute, I dared to hope that the dozens of poisons I’d injected to him were working, before his flames died down and let me get a better view.  
  
Abruptly, his back split into two. A long line of silvery scales erupted out of his spine, sharp-edged and bristling. After a minute, they fell down onto his back to create armor. He climbed back to his feet, and now I was sure that he was taller than before.  
  
The unease that had been growing ever since he shrugged off black widow bites grew into a certainty. It was time for me to retreat. There was no way I could fight him now, and with his gang scattered, those kids had to be safe for the night.  
  
Sliding to my feet, I backed away from the rooftop, able to see fine with the many fires Lung had light. As I backed up, my foot brushed against an empty beer bottle, causing it to roll across the gravel roof.  
  
As if a gun had gone off, Lung snapped his head around to look straight at me. Behind his iron mask, I could see two glowing lines as he glared at me. An inhuman roar echoed across the street as he saw me.  
  
I felt a kind of heavy resignation settle over me. Of course the bastard gets super senses on top of everything else.

 

***Then***

  
It was time for another dance for Brian, although I’d gotten so much better since that first fumbling attempt there was barely any comparison. Not only had I done this several more times, with three of four different clients, I’d also been putting in some off the clock time downstairs.  
  
I’d been practicing my lapdances on Oscar, the mannequin set up in the prep room. Dressed in an eyesore of an outfit, and a gag dildo that was a foot long, and a third as thick, all the dancers used it to try out new moves or routines. I’d gotten loads of tip from the other dancers, especially Darlene, but I’d never actually put it into practice. And, in a way, this would be the final line. Once I did this, it was a tacit admission that I’d be up for anything. That there was nothing I wouldn’t do to be a superhero. At least I got to have some fun, twisted though it was.  
  
From the way Brian’s naked cock was digging into my ass, it seemed he was having fun too. I could feel the heat coming through the thin, sheer two square inches of material that made up my bottom. My top was even skimpier, somehow, even though it had more to conceal.  
  
The past few weeks had confirmed that, while I had taken some contaminated pills, there had been no symptoms besides my breasts growing bigger. They were still the smallest breasts in the building, but I’d actually started looking for bras to wear, and incorporating one into my costume. Sadly, that had meant redoing the entire torso, delaying my debut for at least another week. At least it meant I’d be getting a bit more money here before I had to quit. Speaking of which…  
  
I grinded against Brian’s cock, moving from side to side in time with the music. I yelped as he slapped me on the ass, his hand cracking against bare skin. Throwing a mock-scowl back at him, I did my best pout, or, as Julia put it “make them think about wrapping those lips around their dicks.”  
  
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to hit girls?”  
  
He snorted, but didn’t say anything. Just another strike to my ass, but this time his hand stayed there, slowly squeezing one cheek. As I moved up and down, back and forth, his hand stayed there, slowly kneading me. It felt nice, certainly better than the spanking, but I had more moves that I wanted to show off, and I couldn’t do most of them half-dressed.  
  
I stood up and slid my thumbs into the sides of my panties. Bending over, I shook my hips a bit, before slowly sliding them down. I could feel my arousal sticking to them, and I saw a large shiny spot in their center as I stepped out of them. I did the same to my bra, and coyly cupped my hands over my breasts.  
  
Turning around, I got a good look at Brian. He was already naked, his clothes neatly piled on the floor. I could feel my lips twist into a lecherous leer that matched his as we studied each other. He looked _tasty_. Nice dark skin, excellent muscle tone, defined without being a parody, and I already knew how handsome his face was. The only real marring I could see was a knot of scar tissue on his torso, maybe an inch in diameter on his left side. His large, hard cock was lying against his six pack, and I could see pre already forming. I licked my lips at the thought.  
  
Before I started working here, I would have thought, if I dared to think about it at all, that cum would have tasted gross and disgusting. Now, after maybe half a dozen blowjobs, I’d discovered a small taste for it. A salty treat, though the real prize was knowing that I’d been the one to bring a guy to climax.  
  
Sliding back down onto his lap, straddling him, I rest my hands on his shoulders and let him get a good close view of my new rack. Luckily for him, he noticed.  
  
“Your chest seems bigger than before, Tawnee,” he said, reaching up to play with my tits. “yeah, they’re definitely bigger than the last time I played with them.”  
  
I smiled, pulling his head in for a closer look. His breath was warm against my sensitive skin, and my nipples hardened as he licked one. A hand played with my other breast, squeezing and rubbing it as I shuddered in arousal.  
  
“Yeah, guess I hit a late growth spurt. Lucky me.”  
  
I was slowly bouncing up and down on his lap, letting his cock rub against my lower belly and crotch. Reaching down, I gave him a handjob while he played with my tits. I bet he’d feel awesome inside me, but we weren’t at that point in the dance yet.  
  
As Brian lifted his head up to take a breath, I hopped off his lap again. Managing, just to straddle the chair he was sitting in, I turned around, bent over, and shook my wet pussy right in front of his face. I could swear I felt his breath on me. As I shook my hips in front of him, I felt his hands slide up my sides.  
  
“Feeling grabby today, huh?”  
  
Brian chuckled as he kneaded my ass, such as it was.  
  
“Hey, I see something like this in front of me, I get the urge to grab it.”  
  
An ache was growing in my legs from how far apart they were, so as nice as it felt, I wasn’t going to be in that position for long. Reaching in between my legs, I rubbed my pussy, spreading my lips and letting him get a good view deep inside me. I shuddered as a stream of arousal ran over my sensitive clit. Ducking my head to get an upside-down view, I saw my quim pooling on his chest as I ran my fingers back and forth, playing with myself for his enjoyment. As my legs started screaming at me, I decided it was time to move on to the next position.  
  
Shuffling forward, I lowered my hips until Brian’s erect dick was brushing against my wet lower lips. I moved down not even an inch, so the tip of his cockhead was just barely parting me. I swung my hips from side to side, teasing him. I smirked as Brian groaned.  
  
“Mmmhh, you getting impatient, big boy?” It sounded horribly cheesy, but I’d been assured by Cindy that clients didn’t really pay attention to what was said so long as it was said in the right tone. An unflattering comparison to dogs had followed.  
  
“You’re a cruel, cruel woman, Tawnee.” I laughed as I added a swirl to my hips.  
  
After maybe a minute of teasing, I finally slid down, a real cock entering my pussy for the first time. We both gasped at the feeling. He felt way better than the strap-on or my fingers, bigger and warmer. I didn’t go all the way down, no more than halfway, before I stopped. Grabbing onto his legs to support me, I started riding him, using some quick, shallow movements.  
  
It felt good. It felt really good. I started going deeper and slower, letting more of his dick fill me up for longer. Our legs started meeting as I sank down as far as I could go. I moaned from the back of my throat as I managed to take him all in the fifth stroke. He felt amazing inside of me. Filling me up, heat radiating off him as my wet pussy welcomed him.  
  
Brian’s hands were back on my butt, groping and kneading as I rode him. Looking down, I saw that my breasts were just barely big enough to bounce a little. I squeezed one of them, gasping as another source of pleasure was added. A hard nipple dug into my palm as I threw my head back.  
  
I squeaked in surprise as Brian’s hands shifted off my butt. They slid down to grab my thighs, and lifted up. I fell back against his chest as he put my legs into the air. That this drove me further down onto his cock was surely just a coincidence. It meant it was harder to ride him, but that more time was spent with his dick buried inside my wet, warm pussy.  
  
I gave a full body shudder, squirming against his torso. Looked like my teasing had finally gotten him all riled up. Brian started lifting me up and down, his hands gripping just where my thighs and buttocks met, controlling how quickly I gave him pleasure.  
  
I wrapped an arm around the back of his head as he slammed me up and down on his cock, our thighs kissing every half second. This new pace felt so _good_! His thick cock was filling me up again and again. He was stretching out my tight, aroused cunt, spreading apart my grasping walls with every thrust. I threw my head back and screamed, cumming around his dick.  
  
My pussy spasmed around him as my eyes rolled back. He didn’t let up a fraction, though, and kept on lifting me up and slamming me down as I came. As I came back to Earth, I heard his breathing getting faster and raspier. He was about to cum too. My eyes shut open. He couldn’t cum before I finished the last part of my routine, even if no one besides me would know.  
  
Tearing myself out of his grasp, I fell to the floor in front of Brian. Ignoring his puzzled exclamation, I spun around, and popped his dick into my mouth. I could taste myself on him. Bobbing my head up and down, I stared at Brian, meeting his hooded gaze. Realizing what I meant to do, he laughed, and put a hand on my head to help guide me.  
  
He seemed a lot bigger, and a lot tastier, then the last time I’d given him a blowjob. His lower head was knocking against my throat, and I had to time my breaths. One hand went up to cradle his balls, feeling those sacks, full and heavy with the sperm he was about to shoot down my gullet. The other snaked down between my thighs, slowly rubbing my stretched, sensitive core.  
  
Sometimes I angled my head to one side, to let him see his dick pressing out against my cheek, but mostly I went for just the straight up and down motion. As I sucked him off, I made sure to use my tongue to help, wrapping against his shaft, licking his slit, pressing against his head, every trick I’d been taught or picked up. And it worked, though Brian was already very close to orgasm.  
  
Throwing _his_ head back, Brian moaned as he came into my mouth. I started swallowing, sending wave after wave of thick, creamy seed down my throat. And yet, there was too much; I felt some trickle out of the corners of my mouth. My mouth was alight with the flavor, rich and strong and tasty.  
  
I met Brian’s gaze as I swallowed everything in my mouth, gulp after gulp of warm cum sliding down my throat. I felt the portion that had escaped dribble down my jaw, and splash onto the swell of my breasts. Brian’s grip on the back of my head loosened as he watched me. Getting the last of it down, I opened my mouth to show off what I’d done. Brian swallowed convulsively at the sight.  
  
I sat back on my heels, fingers caressing my breasts as I scooped up the cum that had escaped. I playfully licked them clean, my tongue darting out to cover every inch, and clean up every speck of Brian’s cum. I moaned at the taste, wanting to get every bit I could on my tongue. Finally I got all the cum I could find, but ran my hands over my breasts again, just to make sure.  
  
We sat there for a while, maybe five minutes. Brian was catching his breath, while I slowly fingered myself, my two fingers easily slipping in and out of my flushed, parted lips. I was still pretty aroused, just one orgasm not being enough for me tonight. There was probably a date with a vibrator in my immediate future, as soon as I got downstairs and to the toy chest. _Let’s see. I think I’m in the mood for Big Boy Black tonight. I just hope Julia isn’t using it with those blonde twins._  
  
I kept one eye on Brian as he slowly started to dress, enjoying the way the muscles shifted underneath his skin. I started a bit as he spoke.  
  
“Say, Tawnee- I can’t keep calling you that, what’s your real name?”  
  
I stared at Brian, my eyebrows raised. I was silent for a minute while I considered how to answer, and while my tongue ran through my mouth, cleaning up every last drop of his cum.  
  
“It’s Taylor, Taylor H.”  
  
He nodded, the movement obscured as he crawled into his shirt. Once it was hanging down, he started speaking again.  
  
“I was wondering if you’d like to meet up sometime, outside of here.”  
  
My eyebrows crawled up to my hairline as I processed what he’d said. He was asking me out on a date? I’d been warned about dating clients, and all the ways it could go wrong. On the other hand, if he thought this was just a way to get free dances, and got mean after being told no, I could deal with that better than any other girl at the club.  
  
“On a date?” Brian nodded. I could see a hint of tension on his face, hidden behind a neutral mask. “Sure. You seem nice enough. Got anywhere in mind?”  
He named a time and place that sounded good. After a few meaningless words, he beat a hasty retreat down the stairs. I was left sitting on the bed, still stark naked, a swirl of emotions going through me. What had I just agreed to?

 

***Now***

  
Superstrength was just a word, until you saw someone leap up two stories from the other side of the street. Lung didn’t make it all the way, but I as I rapidly backed up, I could see a set of talons gripping the edge of the roof. He pulled himself up onto the roof, and I stopped in my tracks, clapping a hand over my mouth to muffle my breathing. His eyes were one burning slit, and one molten orb, and flames danced across his body. Shovel-shaped scales covered every inch of him.  
  
In the split-second I had before he registered me, I pulled out my pepper spray and shot it at his good eye. I missed at first, the cone hitting his forehead, but a quick jerk down and to the left tracked the spray over his eye.  
  
He screamed, clapping a claw-like hand over his eye, and took a step back, almost falling off the edge of the building. While he was distracted, I turned and dashed for the fire escape I’d used to get up here.  
  
“Cocksucker!” A jet of fire crossed my path, splashing on the gravel just in front of me. I fell backwards, onto my ass, frantically patting my costume. Nothing was burning, but I was sure that he wouldn’t miss next time.  
  
Turning my head, I saw Lung, still standing tall. He was rubbing his eyes with one hand as the other sent out short bursts of flame around him. One hit me dead-on, and it was all I could do to keep from screaming, though thankfully it didn’t catch.  
  
“You. Bitch,” Lung growled, panting for breath. “Move. Run for it. Give me a target.” He sent out another wave of flame, this one missing by at least a yard. He rubbed his eye, blinked, then rubbed it again.  
  
I swore to myself. The pepper spray had been my last trick, and it hadn’t worked. In a minute, he was going to be able to see again, and he’d pull me apart. And I couldn’t run now, he’d hear me and roast me.  
  
He reared back, the flames around his hands surging to new heights. I screwed my eyes shut.  
  
I opened them as the pain never came. A gigantic monster was leaping across the street from the roof of the three-story building opposite, a jet of flame passing just below it. With a teeth-rattling thud, it landed. It was at least the size of a van, it was a nightmarish cross between a tiger and crocodile, with muscle and swells of bone where it should have had skin or scales. Lung was on one knee, an arm thrust between his face and the creature’s snapping jaws. Its paws were tearing at his scaly skin, opening up lines of blood, but nothing like the damage such a creature should have been doing.  
  
Lung used his free hand to punch the monster on the nose. It reared back, but came slamming back down on top of Lung. Bulling forward, it knocked Lung off the roof, the creature following him to the ground.  
  
I gingerly stood up, feeling like I was about to be sick. My limbs were shaking from adrenaline and fear, and I almost fell as two more impacts rattled the roof. I turned around to see two other beasts. These ones had riders.  
  


***Then*  
**

 

I climbed off the bus, crinkling my nose at the diesel fumes the half-maintained vehicle was spewing. I was meeting Brian just a few blocks away in ten minutes, so I started off at an easy walk towards the cafe for our lunch date. Well, his lunch, my breakfast. You certainly became a night owl working at Club Lango.  
Walking in through the café doors, I looked it over. Small, but clean, there were maybe a dozen people having lunch, scattered across a few tables and the bar. Towards one corner, I saw Brian sitting a two-chair table, already waving to me. I smiled, waved back, and slid into the chair opposite him. Settling my hands on the menu in front of me. I gave him my best smile. He smiled back, sending a flush to my cheeks.  
  
“Hello Taylor. It’s good to see you.”  
  
“Same here. Have you been waiting long?”  
  
Brian shook his head, picking up his menu.  
  
“Nah, just long enough to look over the menu and think about what I want to get.”  
  
I noticed how his gaze kept going back down to my chest, and I smiled. My breasts were still growing, and I hadn’t replaced my shirts yet. That meant my chest was very prominently displayed by the tight, hugging fabric of my t-shirt. At this rate, I was going to hit C-cup size breasts, and wouldn’t that be a sight? It wasn’t affecting the rest of me, like my face, or ass, or hips, but I was beginning to accept that that would never happen, and take pride in what I did have. Picking up the menu, I looked over it with half an eye as I thought about my body.  
  
The rest of the date went very well. I had half a mushroom and ham omelet while Brian wolfed down some French dip and potato salad. We talked about a bunch of stuff, some of it close and personal, some of it just the lightest fluff. I learned he had a sister named Aisha, and that he had lived in Brockton Bay his whole life, and that he was two years older than me. I told him a heavily censored account of my life, trying to stay on the one or two good spots, like how Mom and Dad had once taken me to a country fair when I was five where I got licked by a cow.  
  
Chatting with him was the most enjoyable, stress-free time I had had in years. As the waiter gave me a Styrofoam box for my leftovers, and dropped off the bill, there was a warm content feeling in my chest that hadn’t been there since middle school. I reached out to grab the bill, but Brian got there first.  
  
  
"You sure?" I asked, my hand already halfway to my purse. Brian nodded, pulling out his wallet and dropping some cash on top of the restaurant's bill.  
  
"Yeah, my treat."  
  
I shrugged, letting my purse fall back to my side. If he wanted to cover both of our meals I supposed that was fine. Although that did lead to a thought that had struck me a few days ago.  
  
"Okay Brian, there is something I wanted to talk to you about."  
  
"Sure thing. What's up?" He leaned back, his jacket falling open to show off the tight white t-shirt he had on underneath. Dragging my eyes back up to his yummy, yummy face, I paused for a second, figuring out how to phrase this.  
  
"I appreciate how often you do private shows with me, I really do." In fact, he made up the majority of special service calls I had. "It's just, you do it at least once a week, and the rates aren't that cheap. I don't want you to put the squeeze on your finances just so you can," I significantly coughed, aware of all the people nearby, "appreciate me so often."  
  
He laughed, his teeth white against his skin. Chuckling, he shook his head, but waited to speak until the waiter had come by and left with the money and the dishes.  
  
"Thank you for the concern, Taylor, really. But you don't need to worry about that. I've got a job that pays... pretty well. I can," he waggled his eyebrows, "appreciate you just fine without having to worry about the rent."  
  
I lightly blushed, just a faint dusting of red on my cheeks. Well, that was good. There were enough people in Brockton Bay who'd been fucked up by overindulgence. I didn't want to add one more, even of the thought of someone being addicted to my body was pretty absurd. Still, that raised a followup question.  
  
"So what is your job? Obviously it gives you nights off."  
  
Brian leaned back in his chair with an air of nonchalance that somehow seemed false.  
  
"Oh, you know, this and that. Got a job with a local business. Flexible hours. Means I get to see more of you."  
  
As I said something sweet back, a small cloud of gloom filled my mind. Young, fit, vague job that pays well? In Brockton Bay that could only mean one thing. Well, hopefully I wouldn't have to end up taking Brian down when I went out on patrol.  
  
We said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. As I rode the bus back home, I thought it over. Oh well, if I had to stop him, I’d have to stop him. But it was a big city, odds were good that even if I went patrolling every night, I wouldn’t catch Brian robbing a casino or anything.

 

***Now***

  
I stared at the newcomers. There were four of them, a man and a woman on each beast. I watched silently as they dismounted from the creatures. The tall one approached me while the others hurried to the roof’s edge to watch the fight.  
  
“You really saved us a lot of trouble,” he said. His voice was deep, but distorted, echoey. Possibly that was because of his motorcycle helmet, but possibly not. His costume barely was a costume, the only thing distinguishing it from a what a biker would wear was the stylized skull the helmet had been shaped into. The skull was as black as the rest of his outfit, and I could only tell its shape by the lights intermittently coming from below. It was a fairly good costume, all in all, though it was obviously assembled from stuff he’d already been able to get on the cheap.  
  
“You’re welcome.” A nothing really, but it bought me time to check out the rest of the stranger’s group.  
  
My eye was immediately drawn to the larger of the two girls, mostly because she wasn’t wearing a costume at all. Well, unless you counted worn street clothes and a bargain bin dog mask as a costume. My own costume was far better, even for the fumbling’s of an amateur. The inverted triangle of deep purple to suggest cleavage, the tapering plates that combined flexibility, protection and looks, and the faceless, staring mask all showed off danger and sexuality both. In fact, checking out the other two riders, I realized I somehow had the best costume of the bunch.  
  
Only the other girl had something that really screamed “parahuman”, a skintight black and blue outfit with a domino mask. The way her long, unbound blonde hair blew in the thermal updraft almost made her look like a model, with a cameraman hovering just out of sight, taking publicity photos.  
  
Sensing my gaze on her, she turned around. She had a beautiful face, although-  
  
Wait a minute.  
  
“Lisa?”

 

***Then***

  
“And next up, the towering Tawnee! Give it up for her, ladies and gentlemen!”  
  
I stopped myself from rolling my eyes at the announcer’s introduction of me as I strutted down the catwalk, passing Jewls heading back, carrying the five square inches that made up her schoolgirl costume. The flashing, multicolored lights almost blinded me, as I walked to the pole, swinging my hips from side to side.  
  
Arriving at the small, circular platform, I threw a look around the room before starting. A decent enough crowd for the club, some watching me, some watching the tv above the bar, and some talking to each other. In the front row was Brian with a blonde girl. He gave me a thumbs up as I nodded to him, and the other girl had a tight smile. She was attractive in a lean, hungry way, I supposed. With all those freckles on her cheeks, she must burn like a bitch in the sun, though.  
  
Taking a breath, I started dancing, feeling the crowd’s eyes on me. Swaying to the music, I sank down, spreading my legs until I was flat on the ground, my feet pointing in opposite directions. Crawling forward on my hands, I swung my torso down, showing off my cleavage. The growth had finally stopped at the upper end of a C-cup, which was two more then I’d ever expected to see on me. It was a pretty good size, all things considered. Big enough to turn heads and form cleavage, small enough I didn’t get back pains. It was getting me a lot more private dances, too, and the money that went with it, even if Lewy had to start looking again for a dancer who had long legs and a small chest.  
  
Springing back up to my feet (No mean trick in high heels!), I grabbed onto the pole, the metal clammy against my palm. Wrapping my legs around it, I climbed up a few feet until I was halfway between the floor and the ceiling. Leaning backwards, I arched my back until my fingers brushed the floor. Blood was rushing to my head, but I could see some upside-down guys whistling and clapping as I walked myself around the pole, using my hands as feet.  
  
My breasts threatened to burst out of my top like this, and my new nipple piercings rubbed against the fabric. It was a pretty nice feeling. It kept me constantly aroused, not very much, but at a persistent low level throughout the day. Running, sitting, whatever, I’d feel those little metal nubs rubbing against my bra and my breasts. They were small and cute, two little unpainted nubs on each breast, framing my nipples.  
  
And they didn’t even interfere with my daily milking.  
  
It had been a shock, the first time. I’d been idly playing with my breasts in the shower, cupping them and squeezing them. They’d been feeling full and heavy recently, so I was giving them extra attention, and wondering if it meant I’d be starting a new growth spurt soon. I’d hoped not, I’d look ridiculous with D cups on my rail thin frame. I was playing with them, watching the water hit the shower side, when I felt a warm, rising tingle. I’d looked down, and saw some white drops there.  
  
I don’t mind saying that my jaw just about hit the floor. I scooped up the small droplets onto a finger, and hesitantly licked it. It tasted… well, like milk, though I thought it was a bit richer and creamier. Eyebrows almost to my hairline, I’d started playing with my breasts more, focusing on my nipples. More and more milk dribbled out, in tiny beads.  
  
I’d left the shower in a thoughtful mood. It didn’t take a genius to connect the dots between my growth, the milk, and that tainted batch of Provofil. I honestly wasn’t sure how I felt about it. On one hand, way, big, milky boobs. On the other hand, it wasn’t like I’d asked for it. It was forced on me by some asshole on a mask. In the end, I’d decided that what was, was. Fighting against it had never gotten me anything before, so I just had to square my shoulders and deal with it.  
  
All those thoughts, summed up into a few images, flashed through my mind as I dangled from the pole. I wasn’t strong enough to keep myself up in the air with just my legs, but I had incorporated my weakness into the routine, and slowly, gracefully, slid down to the floor.  
  
Landing on my feet, I shook my hair and shook my ass at the crowd. Turning around, I saw that Brian was still paying rapt attention to me. His blonde friend looked a bit bored as she sipped from a glass.  
  
As she looked away, distracted by some drunk yelling at the bar, an evil idea came to me. Cutting a few steps out of my dance, I unhooked my bra. I twirled it around my finger, the silver highlights flashing in the strobing lights. I twirled it around my fingers, once, twice, before snapping it towards her. She looked back, just in time for it to hit her in the face. I could hear her squawk over the music, as one cup covered her face.  
  
Brian was laughing as his friend clawed at my underwear. She shot me a glare, but any heat behind it just washed off me. I blew her a kiss, and smiled at her. Turning around before I could see her reaction, I shook my ass at the crowd, my flat rear jiggling as much as it could at them. I slapped it twice before facing the crowd again.  
  
Cupping my breasts, I mugged at the room, winking at people and blowing them kisses. As I played with my tits, I could feel the pressure start to build. One of these days I was going to squirt milk onto the stage, and wouldn’t that be fun? Until that day, I’d just have to be content with playing with my breasts and pussy in front of complete strangers.  
  
I threw my best sultry look at the blonde, hooded eye, parted lips, everything. I could see her blush as she took another swig from her glass. Brian said something to her, his words drowned by the electronic music. Wrapping my legs around the pole again, I put them aside. This move would take a lot of strength and concentration to pull off, and I couldn’t be distracted.  
  
For the next ten minutes, I preformed my routine, ending with me being completely naked, and a finger sliding in and out of my pussy. Finally, the music stopped and I stopped masturbating. Climbing to my feet, I blew a kiss to the audience. Brian and his friend had disappeared somewhere while I was finishing the show, but there was still a good crowd who were whistling and cheering for me.  
  
Bowing to the audience, I picked up my panties from the stage and sauntered off it. Cindy was waiting for me just behind the curtains, her… generousness barely contained by the top of a ‘sexy cop’ costume. She clapped me on the shoulder.  
  
“Good job, Tay. Listen, you’ve got a request for a dance upstairs in room 2,” she said, talking over the loudspeaker introducing Officer Candie. “Special request, they want you to wear that Alexandria costume we have.”  
  
“They?” I called out to her retreating back. Too late, the curtains were already falling back down around her ass.  
  
Huffing, I shook my head and headed for the dressing room. I’d only seen the Alexandria costume once, but I was pretty sure I had the height and hair for it, even if I didn’t have the skin tone. Of course, if I didn’t have the height, it might actually have looked decent on me. As it was, I’d be showing off a lot leg in it, and stomach, arms, chest, so on and so forth.  
  
We didn’t have many parahuman costumes. Alexandria, Narwhal, Longshot, and a few others. None from Brockton Bay, though. Wouldn’t want one of the Nazi bitches getting a stick up her rear over people masturbating to her, after all. I slid into the costume; boots, cape, skirt, cap and top quickly. Oddly enough, the Narwhal costume was the most modest, because of how many scales there were sewn into the bodysuit. I’d never tried it on, but I’d once seen Brianna heading upstairs wearing it, to play the heroine captured by a gang of villains. I’d still been around two hours later when she staggered down, cum staining her black skin white, the six-inch horn tucked under one arm.  
  
Climbing the stairs, I sent a few bugs ahead to see what I was getting into. Sight and sound were still beyond my reach, but I could tell there were two people in room two. As I approached the door, a deep laugh told me one was Brian, which must mean the other was the friend he’d brought along.  
  
Opening the door without bothering to knock, I took up a pose inside the room. Based off what I could remember of Alexandria’s pose in the opening credits of that carton I’d loved as a kid, I also shouted her catch phrase.  
  
“Repent, evildoers! For Justice has come!”  
  
There was a strangled moment of silence, before both of them burst out laughing. The blonde’s was rather shriller than I expected, and I saw her put down an empty cocktail glass on the dresser. Brian was sitting on the bed, shaking his head.  
  
“Hey Tawnee. I mean, Alexandria. Wouldn’t want to reveal your secret identity or anything,” he said with a wink.  
  
I laughed and moved closer to him, enjoying the way he leered at my exposed midriff. Starting a basic shimmy, I gestured to his friend.  
  
“Who’s she?”  
  
She had sat down next to Brian, her head on resting his shoulder. I bit down a stupid, irrational feeling of jealousy and possessiveness. Brian was my client, and maybe my boyfriend, but that didn’t mean he was mine alone. Hell, I didn’t even know if she liked Brian that way.  
  
“This is Lisa. We work together. She found about this place, and invited herself along. Sorry.”  
  
I waved it off. As drunk as she seemed, I might be able to pump her for some embarrassing stories about Brian. Or she’d throw up on me. One of the two.  
  
“Nice to meet you, Lisa.” She straightened her head, a dopey grin plastered across her face.  
  
“Izza a pleasure, Taw- Tawnee.” I quirked an eyebrow as a wave of alcohol hit my nose.  
  
“Okay, Brian, you know there’s a cleaning charge if she throw’s up on stuff, right?”  
  
Brian laughed and laughed at that. Even Lisa got a few drunken chuckles in.  
  
“She’ll be fine. She actually suggested asking for you tonight. Said you should keep the boots and gloves on.”  
  
I snorted, but nodded.  
  
“The customer’s the boss, I guess. And what do you want?”  
  
Brian lecherously smiled at me. His eyes ran up and down my parody of a costume. The short skirt, the tight top, the long boots. I knew I looked good in this.  
  
“Let’s start by you getting over here and putting your tits around my cock.”  
  
I went to my knees and crawled over to him. Undoing the zipper on his jeans, I stared up at him.  
  
“You sure know how to sweet talk a lady, boyo.”  
  
I guided his erect cock out from his jeans, and under my shirt. The fabric would keep my breasts pushed together, giving him an even better feeling. His dick peeped out at me from between my breasts as I pressed them together. I craned my head down and kissed the tip before starting the titfuck. It felt nice enough, playing with my breasts always did, but it was obvious Brian was getting more out of it then me.  
  
Lisa fell off the bed onto her hands and knees. Leaning on me for support, she started groping my rear. The skirt was so short it rode up, leaving my ass an inviting target for her hands. I started playing with my nipples as I moved up and down, pinching them through the fabric. The metal studs were cool against my heated skin. Lisa was getting me warmed up, exploring my core with her fingers, and occasionally her tongue. She was stoking a fire inside me, and I planned to use her and Brian to douse it.  
  
Brian was leaning back on the bed, his breathing growing deeper as he looked down at me. I looked up in turn and winked at him.  
  
“Getting close?” He nodded. “Want me to keep going, or do you want to do something else?” I’ll never know what he would have said, because Lisa butted in, her hands still awkwardly groping my ass.  
  
“Come on guyyss,” Lisa slurred. “I want to try this out.” Pulling away from me, she directed us on where to go for her fantasy.  
  
I ended up lying on the bed, naked except for the gloves and boots. Brian, completely naked, was fucking me, his cock pounding my ass into the mattress. Lisa was sitting on my face, her pussy dripping arousal onto my nose and cheeks. She still had on her blouse, and presumably her bra. Above me they were making out, Brian playing with Lisa’s breasts, and Lisa running her hands down his chest.  
  
My hands were wrapped around Lisa’s thighs, just barely grabbing her ass as I explored her with my tongue. I wasn’t terribly familiar with other women, but the moans she was making showed I was doing a good enough job. Brian, on the other hand, was very familiar with women, or at least with me. His slow, steady strokes were making me gasp into Lisa’s cunt as he fucked me.  
  
My walls squeezed down around him, trying to keep him inside me. My poor breasts were unattended, my diamond hard nipples begging for attention they weren’t getting. As Lisa and Brian sloppily made out, I resigned myself to eating her out, licking and tickling her core. It was a pretty pussy, a neatly trimmed triangle of blonde hair pointing to it, with small lips and a cute, uncovered clit. I licked it, while I slid a finger into her.  
  
I could, barely, see past Lisa’s cute butt and straight back as I ate her out. She was rocking her hips back and forth on top of me, hitting my nose as I tried to match my fingers and tongue to her movements. She threw her head back, and Brian took the chance to nibble on her shoulder. She liked that, judging by the grool that splattered onto my face. As it slid down my cheeks and jaw I switched to licking up as much of it as I could.  
  
Brian fucking me was feeling good, but not as good as it could feel. Angling my hips a bit, I shifted until he was brushing my clitoris with every stroke. That shifted things from good to great. My fingers dug into Lisa’s thighs as the wonderful feeling of being fucked _hard_ started to race through me.  
  
The strokes of my tongue and fingers started to get less sure as pleasure started to overwhelm me. I hoped that Brian had more endurance then me tonight. It’d be a shame to lose his services just because it took him a while to get hard again after cumming. My legs were locked behind Brian’s back, keeping him from sliding too far out of me. His thrusts were getting faster and faster, as I got hotter and hotter. Then-  
  
I screamed inside Lisa as I came. My legs shook, trembling against Brian’s thighs. He didn’t come, not yet, but just the feeling of him going in and out of me was enough to drive me over the edge. My head fell back from Lisa’s center as I gasped for breath. I quivered in the after-effects of my orgasm.  
  
Lisa lifted her hips up and back to look down at me. There was an eager light in her eyes as she took in my shaking form. It was too hard to form words right now, and my mouth hung open, Lisa’s quim forming shiny streaks along my chin. I looked, and felt, fucked silly.  
  
“Oh wow, oh wow, I want some of that, Brian.” She looked up at Brian, a poor attempt of a sultry look settling on her features. “Come on, stud, fill me up with your black dick.”  
  
Lisa scrambled around on top of me, driving a knee into my stomach. I bit out a strangled swear as she rearranged herself on top of me. She lying on top of me, her short and plain white bra vanished, and our bodies pressed together. Our position meant Brian could fuck either one of us just my moving up or down a bit. The reek of alcohol I was getting slammed with every time Lisa exhaled wasn’t very pleasant, but I bit down a comment, and bit down on her lower lip.  
  
He started with Lisa, sliding into her. They both moaned. All our legs were tangled together, and I could feel Brian’s hands around Lisa’s waist, picking her up. I could tell how fast he was fucking her just by her moans, short, sweet gasps every time he hilted inside her.  
  
I kissed her, cradling her head in my hands as she slid a hand in between us to play with one of my full breasts. Brian wasn’t content with what he had, constantly pulling out of one us to fuck the other after only a few strokes. I growled in frustration against Lisa’s shoulder. Something that quick wasn’t nearly long enough for me. I wanted him to pound me into the mattress, splitting my pussy apart with his thick cock and making me scream.  
  
“Me too, Brian,” Lisa shouted. I hadn’t realized I was saying what I was thinking. “I want you to fuck me like you fuck this slut! Oh!”  
  
I could see Brian lift his hand and swing it back down just before Lisa squeaked. He was spanking her with every thrust, whether into me or her. Looking at her face, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes starting to lose focus.  
  
Lisa moaned into my mouth as Brian came into her. I pulled her into me, my grasp tight against her back. She was sobbing out nonsense; ‘so good’ and ‘yes’ and stuff like that. I could feel something run down onto my own pussy. Her quim and Brian’s cum, probably. She moaned as Brian pulled out of her. I was squirming in frustration at not getting to cum again, but I supposed I could use Lisa instead.  
  
As Brain recovered, Lisa and I entertained ourselves with each other. We were sitting upright on the bed, so we could better explore each other. As we kissed, our hands wandered over each other. One of mine slid down to her crotch, past her flat abs and silky smooth hair.  
  
I slid into her pussy, collecting Brian’s cum. Getting a good load together, I offered it to her. She shook her head silently, a moue of distaste crossing her features. I shrugged to myself. _Her loss_. Popping my gloved fingers into my own mouth, I licked them clean. Brian’s cum was still warm and tasty, and I hummed in pleasure as I licked my hand clean.  
  
We softly explored each other for a quarter of an hour, teasing our tits and playing with our pussies. Lisa had nice, soft skin that was a pleasure to run my fingers along, and she seemed entranced with my nipple piercings. She pulled them towards her, ran them between her fingers, encouraged by my moans.  
  
Finally, Brian was ready for Round Two. I felt his hands on my hips as he directed me, pulling me away from Lisa.  
  
“Hey Lisa, ever get eaten out by a superhero?” Lisa shook her head as Brian pulled me off the bed.  
  
“Okay, then. Tawn- _Alexandria_.” I rolled my eyes and Lisa giggled. “Alexandria will eat you out, and I’ll fuck her.”  
  
The way we ended up, Lisa was the only one on the bed. Her legs were hanging off it, and I was on all fours in between them. Brian was behind me, rubbing his dick along my ass. I lowered my head to Lisa’s crotch and started licking, aiming to get as much of Brian’s cum out of her as I could.  
  
The combination of flavors, Lisa and Brian, turned out to be the perfect taste. Warm, wet, salty with just a hint of sweet, eating her pussy was no hardship whatsoever. One of her hands was wrapped up in my hair, urging me on. As if I needed the encouragement. Even as I got the last of Brian’s cum out, I still enjoyed licking and fingering her.  
  
Brian fucking me felt even better than before. His hands on my hips, his stomach pressing against me with every thrust, and, of course, his big fat dick spreading my walls. My legs felt weak as he slid in and out of me. It all felt so wonderful; Lisa’s warmth and flavor on my tongue, Brian going in and out, all of it.  
  
My pussy was looser than before, letting Brian fuck me faster than normal. I jolted forward with every thrust. I could feel my arousal flowing down my thighs, and was doing my best to lick up all of Lisa’s. She was groaning, lying flat on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.  
  
I felt the familiar fire rising inside me, racing through my veins. Wanting to share to joy, I worked even harder at Lisa’s cunt, alternating between licking her clit and spearing my tongue between her lips. Brian was picking up the pace too, fucking me even harder and faster.  
  
Somehow, all three of us came at once. Lisa’s cum splattered against my face as I clamped down around Brian as he shot jet after jet of cum inside me. He was painting my pussy white, flooding me with his rich, delicious seed. My strength gave out entirely, and I fell to the floor, shaking in orgasm as his cock slipped out of me. His last few shots hit my ass, still warm and sticky.  
  
After a minute, he pulled me onto the bed, lying me next to Lisa, who was still panting and staring up at the ceiling. I kissed her cheek, and she laid a hand on my thigh.  
  
All three of us were lying tangled together on the bed. My gloves were stained with the juices of all three of us, and at some point I’d kicked off my left boot. I thought about taking off the other one too, but couldn’t muster up the energy. Lisa’s arm was flung across my stomach, and Brian’s face was nuzzled against my shoulder. I was rubbing circles along his back. There was a scattering of tissues by the trash can where Lisa and I had tossed them after cleaning ourselves up.  
  
“You two up for another round?”  
  
The twin groans I got were a satisfactory answer. Honestly, I didn’t want to have more sex either. The money would have been nice, but I was exhausted. Dancing took a lot of energy, and so did fucking, and all I wanted to do now was rest a bit, shower, have a late-night snack, and go to bed.  
  
“I did have fun, though,” Lisa said. “I won’t do it again, but it was nice. Thanks for bringing me along, Brian.”  
  
I ran a hand down her side, raising my eyebrows at that.  
  
“Oh? Not going to be a regular visitor for little old me?”  
  
She shook her head, and drew back a little. Not physically, but the set of her face, and the way she talked, told me that the alcohol and afterglow were wearing off, bringing her usual personality back.  
  
“You were fun, better than I expected when I found out about where Brian was disappearing too-“  
  
“On that note, don’t tell the others, okay Lisa?” Brian interjected, raising his head to look at her.  
  
“Of course,” She answered, waving her hand. “Anyways, this really isn’t my scene. I doubt we’ll be seeing each other again.” She shot a look at Brian that was filled with meaning that I wasn’t able to interpret.  
  
I shrugged, my shoulder scratching against the bedsheets. So long as I kept on getting to see Brian, in or out of work, that was fine by me. A thought struck me.  
  
“You are on the pill, right?” Brian tensed up beside me, only relaxing when Lisa chuckled.  
  
“Yeah, though it was for the side benefits. Never expected to need it to make sure I didn’t get pregnant.”  
  
I nodded, lying back against Brian. All three of us laid there for a while, before Brian finally stirred. I whined as he got up, sliding off the side of the bed. He patted my shoulder but didn’t come back to bed. He grabbed some clothing off the floor and tossed it to Lisa.  
  
“Come on. It’s time for us to go. We’ve got a big day ahead tomorrow, remember?”  
  
“Urgh.” Lisa eloquently responded. Still, she got up too, and started dressing.  
  
I watched them get dressed, shifting my body to get more of the pillow. What was the joke? I hate saying goodbye, but I love watching you leave? They both had nice butts, even underneath their clothes. As they finished dressing, I stopped leering and got up too.  
  
“See you soon?” I asked Brian, hugging him.  
  
“Yes. Take care of yourself, Taylor,” he said, hugging me back.  
  
I nodded. I wouldn’t be, I knew enough about the risks of being a hero to know that much. But the sentiment was nice. Who knows, maybe I’d even get to save him from something one night.  
  
As they left, I sat back down on the bed. Sighing, I grabbed my own costume and put on enough of it to get me downstairs to the changing room. By this time tomorrow night, my own, my _real_ costume would be ready. And the night after that, it would finally be time.  
  
My debut was coming up, and I couldn’t wait.

* * *

  
  
  
A commission for [Chojomeka](https://forum.questionablequesting.com/members/1503/).


	3. Chapter 3

  
“Lisa?” I couldn’t believe it. The odds of one of my… _clients_ being a superhero where so low that- well, I was having trouble thinking of a good comparison. Wait, wait, wait. And if Lisa was here, that meant-  
  
My gaze whipped around to the big guy hidden under motorcycle leathers. It hid most of the details and body language I’d come to recognize but…  
  
“Brian?”  
  
“Holy shit, Taylor?” He sounded shocked. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lisa’s head whip between us, and even behind her purple mask, I could see her eyes widen.  
  
And now that I was listening for it, that clinched it. My boyfriend (and john) was a parahuman. That was, that was… I wasn’t sure what that was. It was good, maybe? It meant I could join a team, a team where people would respect me, not like the Wards, where it would just be rules, rules, rules. There was a tiny, irrational feeling of betrayal that I quickly tamped down. And- I shook my head. My thoughts were all over the place. Focus on the here and now.  
  
“You two know her?”  
  
The guy who’d been looking over the roof, watching Lung and the creatures fight had switched his attention to us. There was a faintly amused tone to his question. He actually looked kind of badass, with the fires from the street below providing lighting.  
  
“Listen, we need to go. The dogs aren’t going to keep Lung down for much longer.”  
  
That gave me a jolt. _What does it take to put him down?_ The beast (a dog?) Brian had rode in on had jaws that looked like they could crunch concrete, and Lung was winning? I sent down what few bugs I’d managed to collect, knowing just how little that meant in the face of all that scale and fire. I had a sudden urge to get very far away, as quickly as possible.  
  
That desire was only reinforced when the buff girl who had also been watching the fight, whistled. With some heavy thumps, the animals clambered up to the roof edge, the clatter of falling bricks showing how they’d gotten up. From down below, I could hear a metallic voice swearing in another language. Yes, it was definitely time to leave.  
  
Looking around for the fire escape I’d came up on, I started as Lisa grabbed my shoulder. She jerked her head to one of the creatures. Brian was already one it, and the other two were climbing on top of the a second one.  
  
“Come on, it’s the least of what we owe you.” Lisa took a meaningless tilt of my head as an invitation to continue. “Yeah, Lung was coming for us.”  
  
The white shirted boy chimed in as the maskless woman bodily hauled him up the creature.  
  
“Yeah, who (uff) would have thought he’d get mad over us stealing fifty grand from him.”  
  
I stared at the flank of the beast on front of me. The most experience with riding I had was a pony ride when I was six, and this had the same resemblance to that as an etch a sketch to Picasso. I still found myself grabbing a chunk of bone to haul myself up with. I needed to get away, and I wanted to find out what was going on with Brian and Lisa, and who they were when they wore the mask.  
  
I knew there were a lot more hero teams in Brockton Bay than just the big three of New Wave, the Wards, and the Protectorate, but nothing about them was ringing a bell. And what had White-shirt said about stealing? I was pretty sure that you weren’t actually allowed to take money from crooks, no matter what people on the internet said.  
  
Awkwardly climbing up onto the dog behind Lisa, I tried to get comfortable amid the nightmare of bone and muscle. As we set off, I remembered what had firmly etched Lisa’s smile into my mind.  


***Earlier***

  
“So, want to bet on how many broken legs we get out of this?”  
  
Cindy snorted and punched Breanna in the shoulder as we lurked behind stage.  
  
“Behave. Who knows, maybe one of them will end up working here.”  
  
Breanna showed her opinion of that with a snort. I was inclined to agree. Peeking out at the girls out there, some by themselves, some in chattering groups, I didn’t see anyone I’d peg as Club Lango material.  
  
Looking across the main room, I saw a wide range of girls. Scared girls, confident girls; beautiful girls and plain girls. A lot of different types had turned out for Amateur Night, and it was certainly going to be entertaining watching them do their best to dance. The boss had strictly ordered us not to laugh at them, but we’d all just exchanged knowing glances when his back was turned. Pole dancing was a skill you learned, not something you picked up in an instant. That was something Breanna and Cindy had both just gotten done demonstrating, putting on a quick show while Chuck the assistant manager gave his spiel.  
  
Over the next forty-five minutes, that was proven true time and time again. Some of the girls were merely unskilled at it, some were bad at it, and some were down right awful. I managed not to laugh where they could hear me, their ego must be bruised enough, but it was certainly something to cheer me up the next time I was feeling down.  
  
As they left the stage, some of them stormed (or limped) out of the building, some of them consoled themselves with drinks, and some of them got in an argument with the boyfriends that had dragged them here. As the crowd of contestants slowly thinned out, I did a double take as I saw who was at the front of the line.  
  
I just managed not to laugh out loud as I saw Lisa climb to the stage. She’d stuck in my mind, mostly because she was with Brian, and because they’d been the only male/female pair I’d been hired for. The tank top she was wearing was tight enough to show that she wasn’t wearing a bra _and_ that it was cold up there. The hotpants she had on down below looked more like panties made out of denim than anything else, but at least she had the sense to wear sandals instead of the ankle snappers some of the other girls had been sporting. All in all, it was, uh, quite the look for her.  
  
She wasn’t that skilled, but she had the confidence, and, frankly, the looks to do a lot better than almost any of the other girls. It seemed she knew she wasn’t flexible enough to try some of the moves the professionals could do, and stuck to shaking her tits and ass, and grinding against the pole. Not that unique, but it also meant she didn’t screw up trying to do something beyond her capability.  
  
She seemed to think so too, smirking at the crowd after a minute of show time was up. Strutting down the steps, I watched her cross the room to a dark booth at the far end. Now that I had a reason to pay attention over there, I could see a figure I was pretty sure was Brian’s already there. A quick flyby with some insects confirmed it. Well. Well, well, well. I smirked to myself, thinking about how my night was likely to go.  
  
A few more girls came on stage to strut their stuff, though I didn’t pay much attention to them. Mostly, I was thinking about how it’d feel to get stuffed by Brian’s cock again. He was definitely one the best customers I had. Attractive, skilled, nice, I really enjoyed spending time with him. As I daydreamed about hi, thinking of some stuff we’d done, and some stuff I’d only thought about, I could feel the arousal within me start to rise. Not much, so far, but it was certainly going to be a distraction.  
  
Leaning against the wall, I started running my hands up and down my thighs, feeling my fingers glide over the fabric of my pants. Cindy and Brianne gave me amused looks as they talked about the contestants, but it’s not like we weren’t used to each other masturbating. An unfulfilling client, watching each other dance, or even something to put us in the mood before a job; there were a lot of reasons for us girls to masturbate, and, so long as you cleaned up after yourself, nobody had a problem with other people doing it around them.  
  
“And the winner tonight is Lisa W! Let’s all give her a big round of applause, everybody!”  
  
There was some scattered applause and cheering as Lisa strutted up to the stage where Chuck was standing. The applause got louder, at least from the men in the room, as she climbed up where they could see her. Her and Charlie shook hands, and he handed over a plastic trophy to her (and, more importantly, the money) and gave a little speech.  
  
And just like that, Amateur Night was over. Chuck hopped of the stage, Jasmine got on, and the electro music started up. I headed back to the dressing room with Cindy and Breanna, listening to them talk about the contestants, and occasionally chiming in with my own observations.  
  
Throwing myself onto the couch, I checked the clock. Still a few more hours until my shift was over. I wasn’t scheduled for a dance tonight, but Lewy liked to keep a few more girls than there were dances on call, so if anybody asked for a ‘private dance’, he wouldn’t have to pull someone off the floor.  
  
Sipping on a bottle of water, I perked up as I picked up Brian leaving the booth and walking over to the bar. He and Lisa still had drinks in front of them, so that probably meant he was interested in the _other_ thing you could get from the bartender.  
  
Sure enough, a few minutes later, there was a call on the intercom for me. Apparently, I had a client. I wondered who it could be. Looking myself over, I nodded. My clothes weren’t anything fancy, but since there hadn’t been anything in the message about special preparations, that should be fine. Heading towards the door, I could feel my lust start to rise again at the thought of getting to fuck Brian.  
  
Almost as soon as I stepped through the door, Brian was on me. Pulling me into a tight hug, he kissed me, his tongue sliding between my parted lips. I clutched at his back, one hand sliding down his shirt to grab at his butt as we made out. We were like that for a long minute, pressed against each other, luxuriating in each other’s bodies.  
  
Pulling back, he shook his head, traces of my lipstick on his mouth. He smiled at me, as his hands kept on roaming over my body.  
  
“Hey, Taylor.”  
  
“Hey, Brian. Didn’t think you were coming in tonight-oh!” I ended on a squeak as Brian pinched my butt. That, unlike my tits, was still flat and skinny, but at least he thought enough of it to pay attention to.  
  
“Yeah, I with Lisa again. Did you see her?”  
  
“Yeah, I was backstage. How on _earth_ did you get her to try out?”  
  
Brian laughing felt nice when my head was pressed against his chest.  
  
“Honestly? I didn’t do a thing. I said I was going ‘out’ and she insisted on coming along. She was finishing her drink when they announced it, and she said she was going for it.”  
  
I shook my head. Either Lisa got real suggestible real fast when she got drunk, or she just needed the thinnest of reasons to get her groove on. Anyway…  
  
“So, ready to get down to business?” I asked, winking at him. As if I needed an answer. His dick had been pressed against me almost before he kissed me.  
  
He didn’t think it needed a verbal answer either, and pushed me with his body to the stairs. I giggled as we awkwardly climbed them, his hands grabbing my hips as we stumbled up the stairs. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brianne give me a thumbs up as we disappeared upstairs towards the room Brian had reserved.  
  
Brian’s hands were all over me as we stumbled through the door. One hand was down the neck of my shirt, fondling a boob, and the other was rubbing against my inner thigh, his hand warm through my tight jeans. My own hand was behind my back, pawing at his dick. Even through two layers of clothes, I could feel the heat pouring off it. I wanted it inside me, and soon.  
  
As hard as it was to focus on anything besides his hands, I looked around the room. Lisa was already in the room, knocking back a celebratory glass. She raised it up in a toast as we staggered in. From the flush in her cheeks, I could tell this was, at least, the second drink she’d had to celebrate.  
  
“Heeey, it’s the girlfriend! Whadda think, I’ve got a career as a dancer?” She giggled at her own question, before finishing off the drink. I really hoped she wasn’t an alcoholic in training.  
  
“Well, you’re the big winner tonight, Lisa,” Brian said, “What do you want to do?” As he talked, he squeezed my nipples, making me moan.  
  
Lisa leered at me before standing up, only swaying a bit as she did so. Crossing the short distance between us, she snuck an arm in between me and Brian, fondling his crotch.  
  
“Mmmh, I think I’m in the mood for a different kind of drink right now.” She had a satisfied, leering smirk on her face as she said that.  
  
I wanted some of the same vintage Lisa was after, so I stepped forward and spun around. Brian looked like he’d died and gone to heaven as I sank to my knees while Lisa leaned in for a kiss.  
  
Two minutes later, Lisa and I were on our knees in front of Brian, worshipping his cock. She was paying attention to his thick, meaty shaft, and I playing with his heavy balls. Our hands were across each other’s backs, passing down our rears, and playing with each other’s pussies. I was wetter than Lisa, a fact I planned to harp on when Brian decided which of us to fuck first.  
  
But for now, we were both united in the cause of giving Brian a world class blowjob. I was a lot better at it than Lisa, but we would both have to be quite bad before a guy would decide a blowjob by two girls would be bad. And from the way Brian’s hands were clenched into fists, it seemed we were clearing that low bar.  
  
I sucked on Brian’s smooth, hairless ball (and that must have taken nerves of steel to use a razor like that), eagerly awaiting the thick spread of cum waiting inside them. It was tricky, not smashing head’s with Lisa as we tended to Brian’s head, but after a few bumps and bruises, we worked out a rhythm where we both got to lavish attention on the black stud in front of us.  
  
My nipples were achingly hard inside my bra, which was tight and thin enough that anybody passing by could tell just how much I was enjoying this. I’d have preferred to go without a bra at all, but with tits the size of mine, that just wasn’t happening. Still, the size (and lactation) meant I was a pretty popular choice, even though every other dancer at the club had more experience than me.  
  
Anyways, my nipples were hard, my pussy was wet, and I was really hoping Brian had enough in him to go a second round after he nutted on our faces. If not, well, while the toys Club Lango kept weren’t as good as a real dick, I’d still be happy to demonstrate them on Lisa. And from the way my fingers were sliding into her, she’d welcome a demonstration.  
  
As I concentrated on sucking and licking each of Brian’s balls, I heard Lisa gagging above me as she bobbed up and down on his dick.  
  
I heard Brian moan above, and could have sworn that I felt his balls pulse inside my mouth. Hurriedly raising my head, I pressed the side of my face against Lisa, so Brian’s dick was hovering just above both our faces. I laid my hand over Lisa’s our fingers intertwining as we both stroked his cock.  
  
Lisa gave a few hurried tugs on his shaft before Brian groaned and threw his head back. I felt him pulse in my hand as he came. Both our faces were plastered with his cum, shot after shot coming out and splattering on Lisa and I. The warmth was incredible, feeling it slid around my skin, and run down my face. Lisa thought so too, the way she was groaning. One hand kept on pumping Brian, while the other was scissoring Lisa.  
  
Brian was done cumming far too soon. Only half of my face was painted with his seed, and Lisa actually had a bit less. As he fell backwards onto the bed, I closed my eyes, feeling the cum slowly run over my face. It felt good. Not as nice as, say, Brian throwing me onto the bed and fucking me until my eyes rolled up, but still nice.  
  
I felt some cum drip down and land on my breasts. Some of Brian’s cum had run through my lips and into my mouth. I used my tongue to run it through my mouth, enjoying the salty, sticky flavor before swallowing. There was more cum still on my face and body, but at the moment, I only had eyes for Lisa.  
  
Her eyes were still closed, and her fingers were hesitantly running through the puddles of cum on her face. Leaning over, I stuck my tongue out and licked her cheek, collecting some cum. Her eyes shot open and she turned her head to stare at me.  
  
“Ugh, uhb, Tawnee? What-“  
  
I cut her off by kissing her on the lips, again getting some cum, and a hefty blast of alcohol fumes. Somewhere in her drunken mind, Lisa must have decided she wanted this too, and started kissing me back. It was only for a moment before she started moving down.  
  
Lisa licked my breasts, chasing up every line of cum that had dropped down onto them. I bit my lip to keep from moaning as she played with the sensitive flesh. There were only two bad things about what she was doing. One was that she wasn’t paying attention to my diamond hard nipples, since there was no cum on them, and that I couldn’t get to any of the cum on her like this.  
  
Finally (a whole two or so minutes), Lisa got all the cum that was on my breasts. Raising her head back up, she kissed. I eagerly accepted, even though she’d swallowed all of Brian’s load that she could get to. We settled down to licking each other’s faces clean, her body held close against mine. We cleaned each other off quickly enough, but kept right on going, kissing each other and fondling.  
  
After a while, I turned back to Brian, breaking my lip lock with Lisa with a regretful groan. I tugged my hand up and down Brian’s dick, and frowned. It was going limp, which was no good at all. Sitting back on my heels, I sighed. Oh well, nothing for it. It was time for a double ended dildo to drive me and Lisa to a screaming orgasm instead of Brian’s cock. The sacrifices I made in this job.  
  
Lisa muttered something as I pulled open a drawer. As I held the blue, floppy baseball bat of a sex toy up for her inspection, Lisa gave me a very confident, cocky smile. She hardly seemed drunk at all at that moment, acting like she was in charge and in control. I was eager to see how long that attitude lasted.  
.

***Now***

  
Riding behind Lisa and Brian, I felt like my teeth were about to be jolted out of my head. The creature had a very odd way of running, and the bone spur I was straddling was scraping against the insides of my thighs with every leap-stride. Luckily, we only ran away for a few minutes, so the pain only got as bad “Oh god fuck ow” and not “My skin is being flayed off through my outfit.”  
  
The dogs came to a halt on top of a factory roof, with Lung’s fire dimmed and his shouts muffled. Seeing everyone else dismounting, I gratefully slid off the animal. I was starting to ache all over from the past – I pulled up a sleeve to check my watch – Christ, only fifteen minutes.  
  
Taking a deep breath, I straightened up as the other teenagers formed a half circle around me. Brian was in the center, flanked by Lisa and the other guy, while the buff girl was farther away, petting one of the beasts like it was her dog.  
  
“Thanks for the assist back there. Oni Lee was easy enough, but it would have been, uh, _difficult_ if his boss had shown up.”  
  
I nodded in agreement. Oni Lee had a reputation as a murdering sociopath, but his power wasn’t impressive enough to handle four other parahumans.  
  
“Any time. So, stranger,” a grin flashed across Lisa’s face, “who are you lot?”  
  
“I’m Grue, Tattletale, Bitch, and Regent,” he motioned to each of them in turn. Lisa smirked and nodded at me, Regent just nodded, and Bitch gave a grunt that may have been a threat, or may have been just an acknowledgment. _What the hell’s a grue_ , I wondered, before getting my mind back on track.  
  
“We’re the Undersiders. Lung’s a bit above us, looks like he’s above you too, so it’s a good thing you gave us time to get out.”  
  
My arms were crossed, and I drummed the fingers of my right hand against my left elbow.  
  
“I’ve never heard of the Undersiders before.”  
  
“Well, corporate thief and snatch and grabs don’t really compare to smashing up cop cars, you know?”  
  
Villains. I should have known. Grue’s fright helmet, Bitch’s name, the way I’d never heard of them before, it all fit. I was already mentally off balance, but Brian’s next invitation knocked me to the figurative floor.  
  
“We can always use talent. Do you want to join us?”  
  
“I… what?”  
  
“Yeah, what?” Bitch bit the words out, glaring at Brian. Her hands were balled into fists, and she was carrying herself like she was about to start fighting.  
  
“You’d be a really valuable member-“  
  
“Grue!”  
  
Bitch practically snarled the words and tugged Brian towards her. Lisa and Regent followed and formed a small circle maybe a dozen feet from me. From their team huddle, I could hear fragments of conversation. It sounded like Brian, or Grue, I supposed and Tattletale were both strongly for me joining, with Regent neutral, and Bitch firmly against.  
  
“… saved our… Lung.” That was Brian.  
  
“So the fuck… didn’t ask, and we gave her… ride. What…” And _that_ was Bitch.  
  
After about five minutes of increasingly heated discussion, they came to a conclusion. Brian came over to me, while Bitch stalked off to her- Christ, they really were dogs, weren’t they?  
  
“We’ve talked it over, and we’re still willing to offer you a spot, if you’re interested.” He ran his hand over his helmet, in a gesture I recognized from watching him fiddle with his braids. Lowering it, he reached it out to me.  
  
“Of course I’ll join. When do I start?”  
  
Reaching out, I shook Grue’s hand. After all, it wasn’t like this was the first time I’d been part of a gang.  


***Then*  
**

I stared out the car window as Cindy drove down the street. You could tell we were in the rich part of Brockton Bay by the way there weren’t any potholes, and little plastic signs advertising security systems on the lawns instead of metal bars on the windows.  
  
Cindy’s beat up old car was really out of place here, but since we were both white women we probably wouldn’t have any problems with the cops. Driving at least. Working could be another story. Well, if we got caught, there were ways out of that, ranging from lying to running to offering *meaningful cough* services.  
  
I stopped considering pointless might-have-beens as Cindy slowed down and poked my shoulder.  
  
“That’s the house, Tay,” she said, nodding towards one of the fancier houses on the block. It was a nice house, about twice as big as my home, and a lot better cared for. There were already four other cars parked out front, so we had to keep on driving around and pulled into an alley.  
  
Getting out of the car, Cindy grabbed my arm as I turned towards the house. I jumped, silently cursing my own nervousness. Turning back around, I looked at her. I suppose it said something about how desensitized you can get working as an exotic dancer that I had no problems looking at her face, even when she was wearing maybe two square feet of clothing.  
  
“I know this is your first time doing a house call, but don’t worry, Tawnee. It’s no different from doing it at the club. Except the furniture is a lot more comfy,” she finished, laughing  
  
“I’m not worried about that, it’s just that I’ve never done anything bigger than a threesome before. _That_ , I’m worried about.”  
  
Cindy pinched my cheek, laughing as I scowled at her. She started up the concrete walk to the house, and fell in next to her.  
  
“Ah, worried about your first gangbang? Don’t be. The guys do almost all the work. All you need to do is make sure you stayed lubed up and limber.”  
  
Walking up to the back door, I could hear some muffled music. I sighed, dreading what it would sound like once we were inside. At least the thick hedges bordering the property should keep it quiet enough the neighbors wouldn’t call in a noise complaint.  
  
I let Cindy knock on the door. Nothing happened, and she knocked harder, actually making the door shake a bit. This time it opened, and we both flinched back as a wave of sound crashed over us. The guy standing in the doorway, who couldn’t have been much older than me, didn’t even seem to notice it.  
  
“Yeah? Who are-“ recognition dawned on his face. “Oh, right, you’re the,” he exaggeratedly winked at us, “the entertainment, right? Come in, come in.”  
  
We stepped inside the back entrance. Looking around, it was a nice house, although it was a bit hard to tell with so many college-aged guys blocking the view. At least they were all vaguely handsome, though I was glad Cindy was here to help take some of the pressure off me.  
  
“Hey, this is Rory’s party, and he just broke up with his girlfriend, okay?” I nodded, not seeing why that was important. “So me and some of my bros where thinking he should have first go.”  
  
Cindy, and now that we were on the clock, it should be Candee, exchanged glances. She shrugged, and I nodded. Fair enough. Candie stepped forward, into the guy’s personal space. She threw one arm around his shoulders, and ran her fingers down his chest. Hooding her eyes, she started playing with the buttons on his shirt.  
  
“Where is Mr. Heartbroken? My friend Tawnee will go… _console_ him.”  
  
The guy, whatever his name was, blushed, even though I was pretty sure I recognized the voice from the phone call setting this up.  
  
“Oh, he’s, uh, he’s in the dining room. Over there.” He waved with his one free hand as Candee wrapped more and more of herself around him.  
  
Leaving Candee to her fun, I wandered in the general direction of the wave, passing through another, large room and a hallway before arriving in what I figured to be the dining room. The giant table with twelve seats was a pretty good clue. There were two white guys sitting at a corner of the table talking to each other. They both looked up as I came in. I went to the sadder-looking one and smiled at him.  
  
“Rory?”  
  
His eyebrows raised, and he shook his head. The other guy spoke up.  
  
“No, I’m Rory. And you are?”  
  
Flushing a bit, I turned towards him. He was buff, like someone who played sports a lot, rather than worked out for the fun of it, or someone who’s job depended on muscle power. Handsome enough, with brown hair and slightly darker brown eyes. He looked like someone I’d enjoy spending time with.  
  
Sliding into his lap, I pressed my body, or at least my breasts, against him. Underneath me, I could feel him growing hard as I whispered into his ear.  
  
“I’m Tawnee. Your friend said you were feeling down, so I came to cheer you up.”  
  
I heard his friend mutter something about ‘that fucking bitch’, but ignored him in favor of grinding my hips from side to side, pressing against Rory’s cock. I moaned as he grabbed my ass, fingers squeezing against the thin fabric of the miniskirt I had on.  
  
“Wanna… _talk_ about it?” It was supposed to be a sultry whisper, but with the music, it ended up more as a full throat yell.  
  
He nodded and stood up, taking me with him. I squawked in surprise, but he held onto me, carrying me out of the room and up some stairs, his hands kneading my ass all the while. His friend came part of the way, but left us at the foot of the stairs, calling ‘Send her back down when you’re done’ after us.  
  
The music was thankfully quitter up here, and was almost completely cut off when Rory kicked the bedroom door closed behind him. I took a quick glance around the room as I was carried across it, but it seemed like a generic guest bedroom, nothing to tell me a bit more about its owner. Assuming this was even Rory’s house, it may not have been.  
  
I _uff_ ed as Rory dropped me on the bed. I had maybe a second to blink before he climbed up on me. I slid my arms around his back as he kissed me. He was a pretty good kisser, not too much saliva, and gash his teeth against my lip.  
  
My miniskirt had slid up, so I could feel his hard-on pressing against my bare thigh. Rory humped forward a bit, rubbing his covered cock against my skin. It had to feel better for him than it did for me, and I tried to undo his pants, so we could both feel good. Or at least, so he wouldn’t have to tell his friends he nutted inside his pants in the first thirty seconds.  
  
“Raise your hips, raise your hips.” He obliged, lifting himself up a few inches.  
  
Scrambling with the button and zipper of his slacks, I pulled them and his boxers down, letting his dick hang out. He was average, both is size and shape, no pulsing veins like I saw on some guys. Tugging up and down on it, I slowly slid him forward and down until he was brushing against my lower lips.  
  
He slid into me, but stopped halfway in. I whined, but he ignored me, concentrating on getting my breasts out of the tight, low-cut crop top I was wearing. I raised my arms up to help him get it off me. My tits wobbled a bit as they were freed, and Rory actually licked his lips as he looked down at them.  
  
Rory started thrusting again, slowly filling me up again and again as he played with my tits. I whined and bucked under him at the feelings. My boobs were very sensitive, and some experimentation had shown that I could orgasm just by fondling them. Having someone massage them _while_ fucking me (his every thrust gliding against my clit)? That was going to be more than enough to set me off. My nipples were like small diamonds under his hands, and, while I didn’t know why he and his girlfriend broke up, it obviously wasn’t because of a lack of skill in bed.  
  
In fact, I managed to cum well before Rory did. I grabbed at his back and thrashed around under him as I came, my pussy squeezing down around his cock. I kept on moaning, short and throaty as fire raced through me, making me feel so, so good. Finally, I relaxed my grip and let my limbs fall to the bed, panting for breath. Rory kept fucking me all the while, his hips slamming against mine again and again.  
  
I was well on my way to my second orgasm when he came. I matched his moan as I felt hot, sticky cum shoot inside of me, filling my cunt up. He reflexively squeezed down on my breasts as he came, the pain providing an… _interesting_ counterpoint to the pleasure of having my core covered in cum. As he finished cumming, he fell on top of me, driving me into the mattress.  
  
Rory climbed off me. Sitting on the side of the bed, he wiped his face as I shuddered in some aftershocks of pleasure. I jumped when someone called out. I hadn’t even heard the door open, but there it was, wide open as three guys looked in at the two of us.  
  
“How was she, man?”  
  
Rory glanced back at me, a smile playing on his lips.  
  
“She was great. Really knows her stuff.”  
  
The guys stepped into the room, undoing their belts.  
  
“Mind if we take her for a spin?”  
  
They didn’t seem to think he’d say no (and he didn’t) from the way they were already positioning themselves around me. It was insulting to be talked about like I was a thing, but I spread my legs anyways. The amount of money I was getting from this was more than enough to make up for it.  
  
Strong, clumsy hands moved me around until I ended up in a position of their liking. Finally, I ended up on my knees, doggy style. There was a guy underneath me, and a guy in front and behind me. There was a brief, silent, moment. Then it started.  
  
There was a guy underneath me, and a guy behind me, both thrusting into me. It felt good, being filled up like that, but I had to concentrate on the blowjob I was giving a third guy, and making sure I didn’t squeeze down too tight on the guys’ I was giving handjobs. There was a surprising amount of coordination involved in a gangbang.  
  
I spluttered around the cock I was gagging on as somebody came into my ass. Cumshots into my rear always felt different than cum in my pussy or mouth. For one, it was harder for me to cum that way, but that was also a good thing. That way, I could keep on going, fucking guy after guy, instead of getting wrung out and exhausted by an orgasm. I threw myself into fucking as many guys as I could, letting the outside world fade, replaced by getting as many cocks into me as I could. The haze of lust that was starting to surround me felt good. Not as good as an orgasm, of course, but still pretty good.  
  
I wasn’t entirely sure how I’d ended up back downstairs, but at least the music was off. I also wasn’t sure where my clothes had ended up, but that was all right. It was all cheap stuff anyways, based on advice that I was likely to end up like this anyway, not able to find them. Finally, I wasn’t sure where all these guys had come from. It seemed like at least two dozen guys had taken a run at me, and, the last time I’d counted with my bugs, there hadn’t been even half that number in the house.  
  
Where they pulling strangers off the street, showing them a set of tight, fuckable holes, ready and willing? Oh, or maybe they were using Tinker drugs to get themselves back up again so they’d pound me all night long. Or maybe- A flicker of rationality flashed through my head. Or maybe there were enough guys that they could cum in me, switch off with another guy, and do something else while they recovered, and then they’d come back for another go.  
  
I didn’t know how much time had passed, but there was nobody pumping their cum into me anymore, which probably meant at least an hour or two. My mind seemed to be floating off somewhere completely unconnected with what my body was doing. I’d lost count of the number of orgasms, both of mine and of the partiers. It felt hazily nice, but I knew I’d have to come back to reality. Prying my eyelids open, I looked around.  
  
Two guys seemed fascinated by my tits. I was too exhausted to do anything about it, and it did feel nice, them squeezing my nipples, watching the milk come out. I was flat on my back on the kitchen table, legs spread apart as cum dribbled out of my holes. I was panting for breath after getting gangbanged by I don’t know how many strangers. Of course, that made my boobs shake and jiggle even more as the men above me pinched my nips, making the milk squirt out and run down my body, mixing with the cum splattered all over me.  
  
My head was hanging off the table edge, mouth open as I fought for breath. Even being the center of a gangbang, where other people worked over you, was still exhausting. I usually wasn’t this exhausted even after a night of dancing and fucking, with an early morning jog thrown in for good measure. I wasn’t sure I had the strength to close my mouth, let alone my legs.  
  
“Hey, I think she wants another cock to suck.”  
  
Huh?  
  
A cock slid into my mouth as my eyes shot open in surprise. It wasn’t that I minded sucking dick, it was just a bit unexpected. Licking it with my tongue, I concentrated on it as best as I could while my nipples were played with. I moaned around the dick, my hips squirming as my breasts were teased, squirting and dribbling a bit of milk every few seconds.  
  
The breast play felt good, but it was taking too long to make me cum. And sucking cocks could be fun, but it really didn’t do anything to get me off. Well, Dad did always say if you wanted something done you should do it yourself. It was hard to get enough fine muscle control to slide my hand over my crotch, so the movement was more of a flopping one. And it was actually pretty hard to do, with my big boobs and stranger’s hands in the way. That, and how hard it was to concentrate, made me give up, and just focus on how my tits felt.  
  
Closing my eyes, I focused on the thick warm cock in my mouth, and the large hands kneading my tits. My pussy was still drooling, quim and cum, but it could wait until I felt strong enough to rub one out. It was a nice enough feeling, anyways.  
  
I flopped my head over to one side. There were half a dozen jocks, pants down around their feet or off entirely, drinking beer and talking to one another as one of their friends pounded my pussy. He made squelching sounds with each thrust, there was so much cum inside me. He slid in and out of me real easily. I tried to wrap my legs around his back, to keep him close, but I just couldn’t get my muscles to cooperate.  
  
There was another guy, level with my chest, furiously pumping his cock in one hand. It seemed a waste, since both my hands were free, but if he didn’t want to use me, that was his business. His gaze kept on switching between my face and my tits. I knew I had to look like a real slut, there were so many loads on me, but it seemed to be helping him. Watching him through half-hooded eyes, I licked my lips, feeling the taste of cum on them.  
  
He started jerking his cock even harder at that, staring at me as I slowly licked some cum off my fingers. Finally, he came, splattering my stomach with a fresh layer of seed. The guy fucking my pussy joined him a minute later, pulling out of me to shoot his load into my lower belly. He wandered off, and another guy came. I opened my mouth, inviting him in. I wondered how many more there was to go.  
  
Finally, the last guy dumped his last load into me. I had literally lost count of how many guys had fucked me. They’d wandered off to other parts of the house, doing whatever people did at parties. Lying on the table, I enjoyed the feeling of being fucked so hard for so long. I closed my eyes and slid a hand in between my thighs. A gentle exploration with a finger showed that I was too sensitive for any more fun by myself, so I just laid there, feeling the last surges of lust run through me.  
  
I flopped my head to one side as I heard footsteps from outside the kitchen. I saw a topless Cindy looking around. She brightened up when she saw me. As she got closer, I saw a line of cum from the side of her mouth. Looked like she’d been working just as hard as I had been. Cindy had a strange waddle in her walk, like there was something inside her panties. We hadn’t brought any toys with us, and I wondered where the frat bros had found one. Or maybe she’d just been fucked so hard, so repeatedly in her pussy or ass that she found it hard to walk. Probably the latter.  
  
I burbled as she slid an arm under me. Hauling me up, she half carried, half dragged me out of the kitchen. I tried to help out, walk under my own power, but my legs were like jelly. I could still feel the muscles shaking and twitching, maybe fifteen minutes after I’d last cum.  
  
Cindy dragged me into the bathroom. It was empty, though I’d vaguely expected some guy face down in the toilet. Sitting me down, with a _squelch_ , on the edge of the tub, she pulled down the large pair of boxers she was using as underwear. Where she’d gotten them from, I had no idea, but they had done a decent job of hiding the cum that had been dribbling out of her as she rescued me. She sighed, before reaching past me for the shower controls.  
  
“Are we having fun yet?”  
  
Cindy laughed at my burble of a response. I was too tired and content to really muster up a response and just sat there, enjoying the slowly fading feeling of being fucked hard. One hand lazily slid down to my crotch, cupping it to stop more cum from leaking out of my slit.  
  
Cindy stepped behind me and pulled me further into the shower. I blinked in shock at the dash of cold water against me. Luckily, it warmed up quickly enough, but even the ten seconds or so was enough to snap me out of me post-orgasmic haze. There was nothing like a good, hard fucking, followed by another good hard fucking, followed by another and another, but I supposed I should get my rear in gear. If the frat bros were done with our ‘entertainment’, there was no reason to stick around, and I certainly wasn’t going to ruin Cindy’s car seats with loads of stranger’s cum.  
  
Ten minutes after Cindy pulled me off that kitchen table, the two of us were in her car, heading back to Club Lango. I’d scavenged a stray shirt from somewhere, but hadn’t been able to find anything to wear down below. Luckily, it was a big shirt, so I was able to tuck enough of it underneath me to not freeze my cheeks off on Cindy’s car seat. Still, it would be good if nobody in a truck was next to us at a stoplight or anything. Otherwise, I’d be putting a bit more on display than I was comfortable with.  
  
Well, if that happened, then it happened. Until then, I wasn’t going to do anything besides lean back against the seat and rest. And try to decide what to buy with the money I was getting from this. There was gloves I’d seen at the sporting goods store. Strip out the gripping pads, sow them into my spider silk gloves, and I could be scaling walls like some sort of spiderwoman.  


***Now***

  
It didn’t feel good deceiving Brian like this, but what choice did I have? I couldn’t let him keep on stealing from people, and there was no way I could stand to see him in jail. So, I said I’d join, while my real goal would be to get Brian to become a hero.  
  
And, if it came down to it, I’d use my body to convince him. Or, rather, I _wouldn’t_ use my body with anymore. It would suck if it came to that, but, if it would get Brian (and the rest of them, I supposed) to become heroes, I’d have lots of sex, or no sex, or anything that would get him to come over.  
  
Those thoughts kept running through my head in a loop as I walked home. The Undersiders had dropped me off at convenient point before they split. We were all too tired to really hash out what me joining meant. So, I’d been left close to wear I’d stashed my civilian clothes, with a meeting place for tomorrow- I checked my watch- _today_ memorized.  
  
I rounded the corner to my house, and sighed in relief. There were no lights on, which meant I wouldn’t have to explain anything to Dad. He hadn’t been asking a lot of questions about where I was at night, and I really didn’t want him to start. Explaining I’m a superhero or explaining I’m an exotic dancer. Which would be more awkward? Hopefully I’d never find out. Just having it happen once had already been more than enough.  


***Then***

  
Greg Veder swallowed nervously. His mouth felt as dry as a desert as he stared at the flashing neon sign above the doorway in front of him. His mother had always told him about how awful these places were, and that had given them an illicit thrill. But that alone had never been enough, not with the thoughts of what his parents would do to him if they found out. But now, there was something else to tip the scales towards ‘do it’. Namely, keeping the respect of his new friends.  
  
The exact chain of events of involved, and not something that cast Greg in that good of a light. But the long and short of it was that he had to take some pictures of him inside a strip club tonight. The camera in his pocket felt heavy, all out of proportion to its actual weight.  
  
He got in real easy. The bouncer at the door gave him a disinterested, uncaring glance and let him through as soon as he paid the cover charge. Greg didn’t even have to produce an ID or anything. A good thing, too, since he didn’t even have a trainee driving license.  
  
Settling in a dark corner, Greg nervously looked over what his mother would call ‘a shameful pit of excess’. There were a few other guys scattered around, some in groups and some by themselves. There were no dancers, though, and Greg wondered when they would come out.  
  
Aware of the ‘No photos, no videos’ sign prominently mounted on the wall, Greg did his best to surreptitiously slid his digital camera out. Had anyone cared enough to look at him, he could only have been more obvious if he had been wearing a trench coat and fedora. Luck was with him, however, and no one saw.  
  
“Introducing the milky mistress, Tawnee!”  
  
Greg licked his dry lips as a stripper pranced on stage. She seemed tall from down here, with long dark hair and a chest that instantly brought Greg fully erect. As she reached the pole on the end of the walkway, a spotlight hit her, fully revealing her. Greg’s eyes were instantly drawn to the outfit she was wearing. It looked like a school uniform two sizes too small. Then they’d cut off the sleeves, the midriff and half the skirt. Greg rubbed his cock through his pants. He wasn’t sure what the rules about masturbation were here, and didn’t want to get thrown out for tugging it in public.  
  
Tearing his gaze from her body, Greg looked up to the dancer’s face, really looking at her now. She had a plainish face that didn’t really match how stunning her body was. Squinting a bit, Greg got a better look at her.  
  
Holy shit.  
  
That, that had to be Taylor Hebert, his best female friend.  
  
A dozen thoughts ran through Greg’s head at the same time. _What is she doing here? Can she see me? Does anyone else know? I didn’t know her tits were that big._ But even as shock dulled his system, he realized he had to take pictures. Who knew when another dancer would be on, and if he stayed out too late, he’d catch an earful from his parents.  
  
Greg could barely press the capture button on his camera. Shielding it with his forearm, he took photo after photo of the stage. He wished he could have a free hand to rub his cock, but there was no-! Hurriedly shrugging off his coat, Greg arranged it in front of him to conceal the camera. Now with one hand free, he started rubbing his dick. He was rock hard, harder than pictures or drawings ever got him.  
  
As he stared at Taylor cavort on the stage, Greg undid the zipper on his jeans. Slouching down a bit to hide himself, he started stroking his shaft as he watched Taylor. He was panting as he touched himself, watching spin and sway around up there.  
  
Taylor undid the buttons on her blouse, smiling at the crowd as more and more of her cleavage was revealed. As the last button was undone, she dropped her hands and spun around to the pole. Crawling up it, she then leaned backwards, letting her fingers walk on the floor, and her boobs spill out of her shirt.  
  
They looked huge, bigger than any of the other girls at school. Greg wondered if she’d let him touch them when they next met up at school. The way they swung around, unconstrained by a bra or anything was a visual treat.  
  
It was more than just a treat for the eyes. As Taylor slid out of the shirt, letting her boobs swing around free and clear, Greg came. He bit down on his lip as he had the best orgasm in his life. His cum splattered on the underside of the table as his head hit the wall. He panted for breath for several minutes, staring at the celling.  
  
Greg looked around and saw a box of tissues. Apparently, you were allowed to masturbate in here. Grabbing a handful, he cleaned himself and the table up. Looking up, he saw that Taylor hadn’t even taken off her skirt yet.  
  
His dick still wasn’t hard again, but if anything could get it back up, it would be the sight of Taylor, back turned to the crowd, slowly sliding her skirt down, revealing a tight, firm ass. A black g-string was revealed, tightly hugging her hips. Greg wondered, if he was closer, if he’d be able to see some cameltoe.  
  
Greg bit down on his tongue as Taylor threw her panties off. As she twirled around, he saw a shining gem in between her cheeks. She had a jeweled butt plug there, stretching her as she pranced around stage. Greg had never thought something like that could be so arousing.  
  
Greg gulped as Taylor blew a kiss to a man in the crowd. Would she do that same to him? He longingly watched as men slipped bills into her strap. He fantasized about what it would feel like to run his fingers along that warm, soft skin. But he was too far away, and didn’t have the money for it. Another fantasy dashed on the hard rocks of reality, just like the ones of getting rewarded by Sophia Hess for saving her from Empire 88 muggers or his hot Spanish teacher demonstrating her skills with her tongue.  
  
Greg vowed to himself that he’d find Taylor at school tomorrow. And who knew what would happen then? Maybe she’d be so grateful that someone would help share her secret that… Greg drifted off into a fantastical haze of lust and sex that he never thought would apply to himself. He only came back to reality when the loudspeaker came back on, drowning out the rocking music.  
  
“Remember folks, Tawnee’s here all night. If you want to reserve a private dance, just talk to one of the staff!”  
  
The temptation flashed through Greg’s mind, but a pat to the pocket dashed that fantasy. He’d already spent too much getting inside. There was no way he could afford to talk to Taylor now. Sighing to himself, he dropped the camera back in his coat pocket and headed for the door.  
  
The cold outside air was like a slap to Greg’s face as he stumbled out of Club Lango. Shaking his head, trying to clear it, he blinked rapidly, looking around the street. Nobody paid him any attention, and the world was acting as if it was still normal and sane. Nerves shaking, he stumbled into an alley and pulled out the camera. He wanted to see how good the pictures he’d taken were.  
  
Greg frowned as he turned the camera on. He couldn’t remember turning it off after Taylor was done, but maybe it had an auto-shut off function. Tapping his foot as he waited for it to boot up, Greg kept on glancing around, worried that somebody would see him. See him doing what? Greg wasn’t thinking that rationally.  
  
Finally the menu on the camera popped up. Fingers clumsy with fear, lust and anticipation, Greg scrolled through the sub menus, looking for Recent Photos. When he found the most up to date photo the camera had taken, his jaw dropped open. It was a picture of his superhero collection, that he had taken a week ago for a school project.  
  
“No, no, no…” Greg’s hands were slick with sweat as he hurriedly poured through the camera function. Not a single photograph there. Of Club Lango, of Taylor, of anything. He went pale as the realization of what had happened dawned on him. _He’d forgotten to turn the camera on!  
_  
His head snapped back and forth from the building behind him to the camera in his hands. What could he do? He didn’t have the money to get back in, he couldn’t sneak in the back… Greg bit his lip as plan after plan failed to present themselves.  
  
Sighing, Greg put away the camera. He was going to have to go to school tomorrow with no evidence. But at least he’d have plenty of masturbation fuel, even without the photos. Also, if Taylor ever showed up for school, he’d have to confess to her. Maybe free her from whatever was making her work there. And she’d be grateful to him, and throw her arms around him and and and…  
  


***Now***

  
Brian, Lisa, and Alec met me at the agreed spot. Alec was nice looking, generically handsome bordering on pretty, but not really my type, especially with Brian standing next to him. We did small talk for all of maybe a minute before getting down to business. As a signing bonus, Lisa gave me a lunchbox half full of money. Five thousand dollars wasn’t the _most_ money I’d ever seen all at once, but it was the most that had ever belonged to me. I kept it close as Brain invited me to their - _our-_ base.  
  
It was just a bus ride and a short walk to their supervillain hideout, not all that far from where Lung had been last night. The dusty, rusted, factory floor they led me into was worth a raised eyebrow, but the second story was every teenage fantasy home cliché rolled into one.  
  
Brian took me on a tour of the base, with Lisa hanging around to the side, and Alec plopping down on a couch to watch TV. Rachel was in one corner, alternating between brushing a dog, and looking at me with more hate than Lung. That could be a problem, though at least she hadn’t done something crazy like set the dogs on me. After a while, Brian pulled me aside into an empty room, Lisa loitering outside the closed door.  
  
“Is this going to be awkward, I mean, with your job and all?” There was a glint of concern in his eyes as he leaned against the wall.  
  
I’d been wondering the same thing. I hadn’t been planning to keep on working at Club Lango, and, even if I did, there was no possible way I could have Brian or any of the other Undersiders as clients without killing any chance of them treating me as an equal. In the end…  
  
“Not if you don’t bring it up. I’m going to quit tonight. I don’t need the money anymore,” I swung the lunchbox around at that, “And isn’t the middle of the night when we’d be doing our dastardly deeds of villainy anyway?”  
  
Brian smiled at that, and leaned up from the wall.  
  
“You’d be surprised at how often our jobs are in the middle of the day or something. But, I see your points. You’re lucky it was Lisa who talked me into talking her. If it had been Alec? He’d already have half a dozen nicknames for you.”  
  
I nodded. I barely had more than the broadest strokes of Rachel’s and Alec’s personalities down, but the pretty boy did have a constant air of detached sarcasm to him. The mention of nicknames triggered another thought.  
  
“By the way, do you have any ideas about what to call myself? As a supervillain, I mean?”  
  
“You don’t have a name picked out already?”  
  
I shook my head. The good names had already been taken, and all the ones left seemed too villainous or too ridiculous for me. And yes, I was aware some people thought of me as Tawnee Brown.  
  
My ears had perked up when this mysterious boss was mentioned, when Brian and Lisa had been briefing me earlier. Revealing some shadowy manipulator to the heroes could be a real coup, and show them that I was on the same side as them. Also, if I could break whatever hold, benefits or threats, they had on Brian, it would be a lot easier to get him to reform and join me as a hero.  
  
Brain had been replaced with Lisa. My bugs told me that he had gone over to Rachel, exchanged maybe half a dozen words, and was now plopped on the couch watching an action move with Regent. My bugs couldn’t actually tell what kind of movie it was, but I could, since the explosions and gunfire were coming through the wall.  
  
“So, it’s nice to talk to you when you aren’t getting buggered for cash.”  
  
“Thanks. And it’s nice to talk to you when you aren’t drop dead drunk.”  
  
She smiled at that, but it looked a little tight. I started wondering what she was like when she wasn’t drunk. I’d seen enough guys at the club do a 180 reverse in personality after a few beers, and it seemed Lisa was like that too. For one thing, she hadn’t even glanced at my tits.  
  
“Brian and I are going to be cool about… this,” I waved a hand, trying to encompass our complicated relationship. “Are you?”  
  
Lisa chuckled, a surprisingly high pitched sound. Leaning against the door, her smirk grew wider.  
  
“Oh, believe me. I was only into you those nights because I was drunk. Right now? I’d rather eat a burger than you.”  
  
I snorted, but nodded. Drunken bisexuality was a new one on me, but if she was okay with it, then so was I. Lisa glanced at her watch.  
  
“Okay, time for your first team briefing.” Opening the door, she left. Shrugging, I followed. Maybe all social interactions were going to be this easy.  
  
All five of us were gathered in the center of the loft. Brian was standing apart from the rest of us, as benefited a leader, I supposed. As soon as my rear touched the seat, he was talking.  
  
“Have any of you read the morning paper?”  
  
All of us except for Lisa shook our heads. I’d been too busy last night, and didn’t even have time to check PHO to see if anyone was talking about me there. Brian tossed the paper into the table on front of us. I picked it up, and leafed through it, Alec leaning over my shoulder to watch. Rachel, on the other hand, was slouched in a corner of the couch, looking bored and angry.  
  
“It’s on the third page, bottom right,” Tattletale chimed in.  
  
There was a small headline, and an article not much bigger. Skimming through it, it said that last night Armsmaster and PRT elements had responded to a disturbance. They found Lung, but were unable to detain him. The story ended with a two-sentence speech from some stuffed suit about the vigilance of the local heroes. Alec snorted, finishing the article, and I agreed  
  
“Thanks to Tattletale, we know a bit more than what’s in the paper.” She preened at that. “Lung may have been able to avoid the boys in blue, but he’s still hurting. He’s going to be down for at least a week, recovering from Bitch and Bug.” I nodded, feeling a twisted satisfaction form in my gut.  
  
“And what happens after that week? He sends us a bouquet of flowers?” Alec actually managed to keep the sarcasm out of his tone, though the words themselves made up for it.  
  
“I’m not sure yet. We may have to move. Or he may not try again. I’ll think of something in the next day or so.”  
  
I squeezed my hands together. I thought he was making a mistake pushing the conversation off, but I wasn’t sure if I had enough status in the group to push back against the leader. On the other hand, how would I ever get that status if I just sat there meekly? I decided to go for it.  
  
“I think we should talk about it now.”  
  
I blushed a bit as everybody looked at me, but I didn’t flinch, and kept on looking at Brian. I saw a flash of irritation snap across his face before he sighed and rubbed his forehead.  
  
“Okay. What are you thinking?”  
  
“Man, she hasn’t been on the team for a day and she’s got you whipped,” Alec cackled. Neither of us rose to the bait, despite him quickly looking between the two of us, hoping for a reaction.  
  
“Do we need to move? Does Lung know about this place?”  
  
“He doesn’t know the address, but he’s narrowed it down to a few blocks,” Brian was already shaking his head. “Oni Lee proved that last night. And it wouldn’t take a lot of muscle to break down doors till they find something.”  
  
“Hole up and fight ‘em?”  
  
I was surprised that Bitch offered a suggestion. She seemed the type to communicate through growls and snarls, one of which she directed at me when she saw me looking at her.  
  
“Maybe.” Despite his words, Brian was shaking his head. “We can take Oni Lee, but we can’t beat Lung, not once he’s grown.”  
  
“Right at the beginning, before he’s ramped up?” Lisa didn’t sound as if she believed it, and was just saying it to clue everyone else in.  
  
“Again, maybe. But it won’t just be Lung. It will be Lung, Oni Lee, and a bunch of chaff as well. It’d be really risky, especially if the Protectorate shows up.”  
  
“So when he finds us, we can’t beat him, in short.” Alec leaned back on the couch and crossed his hands behind his head. “Sounds like we should find a new hidey hole.” He looked towards me. “You natives got any ideas?”  
  
I pursed my lips, running over the neighborhoods of Brockton Bay in my head, while Brain stared off in the distance, his brow furrowed.  
  
“The trainyards? Knock the walls out of a few storage units, you could open up a pretty good size space.”  
  
Almost before I finished the final syllable, Brian started talking.  
  
“There’s another problem. The reputation of the Undersiders. Running from Lung may not look good. Only reason we could get away with it is because we don’t hold territory, and never have.”  
  
I hadn’t thought about it that much, but I wasn’t sure if it mattered. Brian hadn’t mentioned taking jobs from anyone besides their mysterious patron. It was something to seriously think about later on.  
  
“Nobody expects that a group of thieves should get into a shootout with the big boys, either,” Lisa pointed out. “I’ll call the boss, and tell them what’s up.”  
  
And just like that, the meeting broke up. Regent kept on ragging Grue about me, Lisa went off to one corner to talk on her phone, and Rachel kept on sitting on the couch, switching between glaring at me and glaring at Brian. I wandered closer to Lisa, waiting for her to finish the call. After a few minutes, she put it back in her pocket and smiled at me.  
  
“Hey Bug. How would you like to rob a bank?”  


***Then***

  
Cindy was giving me her Advanced Course on Looking Like a Lady. Or, as everyone else called it, how to put on makeup for the stage. It involved a lot heavier applications than what you’d put on for day to day use. Not that I had known how to do _that_ either, which was what the Basic Course had been about.  
  
It was a busy night. The main room was packed almost to the bursting point. There was a constant stream from the bar to the seats, and some girls had been reassigned to carry drinks tonight. I was glad I wasn’t one of them. The pay wasn’t quite as good, and you got groped and hit on a lot more compared to dancing. We had two dancers on right now, in fact, for the first time since I’d been here. Lark and Browni were both doing their own thing, and had almost ran into each other a few times.  
  
After an hour or so, Cindy put away her tools of the trade, as she referred to them. Looking at myself in the mirror, it was like seeing a stranger. Full, pouty lips, dark, seductive eyes, blushed cheeks, the works. I’d never imagined my face could look this good, and, admittedly, this unrecognizable. I sat back in my chair, exhaling in shock. Cindy chuckled and patted my shoulder.  
  
“Ready to go out there and knock ‘em dead, Tawnee?”  
  
I nodded, gingerly touching my face with my fingertips. Cindy scowled and shooed me, knocking my hands away.  
  
“Don’t mess it up! You’re on too soon for me to start over.” A different one entered her voice, and a tight smile tugged at her features in the mirror. “And you want to look your best for your young man, right?”  
  
The bottles on the table seemed fascinating all of a sudden. I stared at them, fiddling with a cylinder of lipstick.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
  
I couldn’t actually see Cindy roll her eyes, but there was no way she wasn’t.  
  
“Really? Tall, black and handsome? Reserves a room with you every time he comes in?”  
  
I could feel a blush creeping up the sides of my neck. I debated whether an obvious lie or an embarrassing truth would be better.  
  
“His name’s Brian. We’re- we like each other. A lot.” Even that was almost too embarrassing to say, and Cindy’s follow-up did nothing to stop it.  
  
“Ohhh, aren’t you _lucky_ ,” Cindy teased me, pinching my cheek. I rolled my eyes and squirmed, trying half-heartedly to get out of her grip. Then she let go of me, and her face got a lot more serious.  
  
“Seriously, though, a word of advice.” Her tone was a lot more serious and flatter. I looked at her, cocking an (exquisitely thin) eyebrow. “Make sure you two don’t get frisky on the first Tuesday of the month.”  
  
“Okay?” I didn’t really see it, and Cindy could tell.  
  
“That’s when the Empire comes for their pound of flesh. A black guy and a white girl?” She shook her head. “ _Not_ a good idea.”  
  
I frowned, but nodded slowly. The logic did track, even if I’d be fighting the Empire 88 in costume before that date rolled around.  
  
“I’m not kidding, Taylor. They’re cold, evil bastards. Once, this must have been two years ago, they came by when a girl, like you, was giving a lapdance to some weedy black guy. Those two pricks glared at them the entire time they were in here before they followed that masked fucker out the door. Then, two nights later, _somebody_ attacked her. They raped her and used a knife on her.”  
  
I swallowed. That couldn’t happen to me, but still.  
  
“Taylor, she was cut up so bad she didn’t have a face anymore.” Cindy grabbed my shoulders and stared me in the eyes. I’d never seen such a serious expression on her face. “I don’t want, don’t ever want, that to happen to you. Be careful, alright?”  
  
I nodded. I’d be careful, but nothing was going to stop me from becoming a hero.  
  
“What happened to the guy?”  
  
“I have no idea,” Cindy said, shrugging. “I never saw him again after that night.”  
  
I sat, staring at myself in the mirror for a while. It was some heavy stuff to think about. Not for me, but for Brian. He was buff, but other than that, what did he have? I’d never seen a gun or a taser of anything when he was dressing, and muscles didn’t mean that much if a fight starts with a crowbar to your back. I wouldn’t want him hurt because of me. After a while, another detail struck me.  
  
“There was a parahuman with them?”  
  
Cindy frowned, but answered.  
  
“Yeah, every month. That mutant bastard, Alabaster, or whatever.” She stared at me for a long minute, her eyes hard. “Taylor, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but don’t. All bastards are bastards, but some bastards are _bastards_ , if you know what I mean. He’s a killer, and you can’t do anything about it, okay?”  
  
I nodded, feigning agreement. This, this could be really big. Knowing when an Empire cape would be here, I could set up a trap for him. Not here of course, not where my friends and coworkers could be hurt, but how hard would it be to follow him? And then, just like that, take him down. I was sure my bugs could beat… whatever power he had. I started as I realized I’d been quiet too long, and Cindy was staring at me, puzzled.  
  
“Of course not. I was just curious.”  
  
I wasn’t sure if Cindy believed me, but she didn’t push it, just giving me a long, considering look. She turned back to her own business, while I sat with my thoughts.  
  
  


***Now***

  
Lisa and I had split off from Alec and Brian. Sliding our way through the crowds, Lisa led me to store after store. It was vaguely like those long-ago shopping dates with Emma, supervised by our moms. We both had way more money to spend than before. I felt guilty over using the money we stole from a bank, but Lisa had said that this was all going to be her treat. Also, back then, we’d never ended up in a sex shop.  
  
Lisa had peeled off to the costumes, while I was examining the stuff on a shelf opposite her. I could hear her muttering to herself as she pawed through the costumes. I was surprised at how much stuff the store carried. I’d never seen half of it, and I thought that I was well-educated in sexual matters. Some of the stuff I couldn’t even figure out what it was supposed to do, and there was no clerk around to ask for help. Putting down something that was mostly made out of leather and studs, I tuned back in to Lisa’s monologue, wondering if I should ask her for help identifying this stuff.  
  
“Sexy nurse, sexy teacher, sexy cop, sexy garbage worker…”  
  
My head shot up and I turned to stare at Lisa. She was smirking back at me as she fingered some barely there costume.  
  
“Ha. So you are paying attention.”  
  
I rolled my eyes and went back to examining the shelf of wearable chocolates. It wasn’t something I’d used before, but the description on the packaging sounded intriguing. I’d read maybe half the printed sales pitch before Lisa whistled me back over.  
  
“Hey, Taylor, what do you think of _this_?”  
  
I looked it over. It was nice, but I didn’t see the relevance. Lisa saw the question on my face, and giggled.  
  
“Just think of it. You, and Brian, and…”  
  
As she explained the train of thought behind it, I found myself agreeing more and more. It was expensive, but I was flush with cash right now, and had nothing better to spend it on. Grabbing it, we went to the empty counter. Looking around, I couldn’t see anyone, and ringing the bell had no effect either.  
  
Finally, I grabbed some nearby bugs and sent them through the backrooms, looking for the missing cashier. Almost instantly, I found him. Or maybe her. They were both naked, so it was hard to tell. They were using a strap-on I sincerely hoped belonged to one of them, and wasn’t part of the store’s inventory.  
  
“Well? Did you find them?”  
  
I jumped at Lisa’s question, and the dawning realization on her face told me she’d figured it out.  
  
“I, uh, don’t think they’ll be coming soon.”  
  
She frowned and rolled her eyes, before grabbing the price tag on the costume.  
  
“Hhmm, and I don’t want to wait. Okay, let’s just leave some money behind and go.” She saw my raised eyebrows. “Oh, don’t worry. It’ll be fine. Heroes do that all the time in disaster movies, and nobody ever yells at them.”  
  
I debated pointing out the gaping flaws in the argument, before deciding not to bother. We wouldn’t be stealing it, and it wasn’t as if I hadn’t done a lot worse just yesterday.  
  
Striding out the door, discreet bag in hand, I shaded my eyes against the sun. Lisa was right on my heels, already looking up and down the city street.  
  
“Where to next?”  
  
***  
  
Setting up the logistics of this was rather challenging. Not getting into the costume, I had plenty of experience with how to get in and out of sexy clothes, but how to do almost every other part of it. I didn’t want to parade around in front of the rest of the Undersiders in something like this, but I also didn’t have Brian’s number in my new phone, so I couldn’t just text him and tell him to come to his room. Finally, I just waited until he was walking past the door, and hissed for him to come in.  
  
Brain stopped two steps into my new room. I didn’t really know what he was expecting, but it seemed like it wasn’t this. I was leaning against the bed, looking demurely at the floor. The act of innocence may not have been too convincing, since I was wearing the sexy bride costume Lisa and I had picked out earlier today. It showed off lots of leg, and the faux-modest chest had been designed for someone a few cup sizes smaller than me. As such, my breasts strained against the fabric. If I took a deep breath, I thought it would tear.  
  
My skirt was a beautiful, ruffled white. Of course, the way I could raise the hem two inches and show off my pussy detracted from the modesty of it somewhat. The white elastic… thing on my thigh felt kind of funny when I walked, but it was part of the wedding dress attire based on my admittedly hazy memories of real weddings. And of course, there was the veil. Not too thick or opaque, it covered the lower half of my face and my neck. All in all, it looked very, very sexy on me (which it should, as much as I paid for it).  
  
“Damn, you look good, Taylor.” I preened a bit at the compliment, smiling. “but, why a wedding dress?”  
  
I chuckled nervously, looking at the floor, scuffing at a step with a white heel.  
  
“Well, I thought it would represent you taking my innocence as I join a life of crime, you know?”  
  
Brian’s eyebrows were almost at his hairline as I explained. He shook his head, but he was smiling.  
  
“Really? I mean, really?” Looking back at me, a hungry, amused smile settled on his features. “Well, okay.”  
  
Brian stepped forward and scooped me up in a bridal carry. He carried me the entire six inches to my new bed. How gallant. Gently lowering me down, he crawled in between my spread legs. Looking down his body, I could see his cock straining against his trousers. I licked my lips in satisfaction. That was going to feel real good, real soon.  
  
I shivered at the feel of Brian’s hands on me. They were racing up and down my body, sliding along my back, grabbing my ass, and playing with my tits. One benefit of the wedding dress was that my milk wouldn’t show up on it, though it would probably be a good idea to clean it afterwards anyways.  
  
I gasped as I felt Brian’s dick rub against me. It was still through several layers of cloth, but the thought more than made up for the lack of sensation. I fumbled with his pants as he undid my top. We both got done at almost the same time, my boobs and his cock swinging free. His pants fell down around his knees, while my top ended up scrunched under my breasts.  
  
He grabbed my breasts, rolling my nipples around between his fingers. That got them hard, and I was already wet. I tugged his cock a few times before he lowered himself enough I wasn’t able to reach. He twitched aside the veil so we could kiss, his lips hungry against mine. I cradled the back of his head as we made out, my legs locking behind him. One shoe had already fallen off, and the other was only half on.  
  
Brian reared up, looming over me. I reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt, but my fingers were clumsy with lust. We ended up just tearing it off eventually. I ran my hands up and down his bare torso, caressing his muscles. Nice and firm, just the way I liked it. He flipped up my skirt, revealing my pussy. I squirmed under his touch, his thick fingers warm against my sensitive skin.  
  
One of them slid along my lower lips and I gasped. Staring down past my breasts, I could see his cock bobbing just a few inches from my core. I wanted it inside me, stretching me and filling me up and making me feel so damn good.  
  
Brian lowered his head to my breast. Taking a fat nipple in his mouth, he applied just the lightest of pressure with his lips and tongue. I groaned from low in my throat at the feeling. Having my breasts played with felt good before I was doused with Nuture’s witches brew. Now? With a chest that could be described as udders? It felt heavenly. Everything Brian did seemed to make me more aroused than normal. I wasn’t sure of this was because I loved him or because he was just that skilled in the bedroom.  
  
I felt his dick rubbing against my crotch, gliding along my pink skin. Brian lowered himself to suck on a nipple, the sensation sending frissions through me. As the foreplay continued, I got an excellent idea. Rather than thinking it over, I went straight to execution.  
  
“Come on baby, turn me to the dark side.”  
  
Brian laughed softly against the side of my neck. Encouraged, I went on.  
  
“Take innocent, virginal me and expose me to the wonder of sex.”  
  
Brian laughed even harder, and stopped thrusting his hips forward. His warm breath felt nice against my skin, and I smiled.  
  
“Take your criminal dick and, um, and make me, um… Goddamnit, this is why I practice conversations before I have them.”  
  
Brian had almost rolled off of me, he was laughing so hard. I swatted his shoulder, but he ignored me, laughing into a pillow as pouted. Finally, his laughter died down, and he looked at me, a big smile still stretched across his face.  
  
“Man, if I wanted bad jokes, Tay, I’d fuck Alec.”  
  
I scowled, and snorted, but didn’t say anything. Frankly, I didn’t trust myself to, not after how quickly _that_ went south. Grabbing his slowly deflating dick, I gave it a few tugs to get it back up. He quickly hardened back up in my grasp.  
  
Still chuckling, he climbed back on top of me. He offered me a kiss to make up for it. I eagerly accepted, hands clasped to the sides of his head. Our tongues played with each other, wrapping around and exploring each other’s mouths. Finally we broke, gasping for air.  
  
I leaned back against the pillow, smiling up at my boyfriend. I lifted my arms up, making my breasts jiggle and rise. The way his eyes shot from my face to my chest was quite satisfying. The way he started playing with them again was even more so.  
  
I squirmed around under Brian as he teased my breasts and nipples. My legs were rubbing against him, the pantyhose sliding along his well-muscled limbs. It was a stretch, but I could just get my arms far enough to touch his torso. Tracing his abs, I smiled at the feeling of the muscles shifting beneath his skin.  
  
Grabbing his cock in a hand, I guided Brian into my embrace. Both between my arms and between my legs. I moaned as he slid into me. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the sensation, feeling Brian’s cock spreading my walls apart and feeling the heat radiating off of it. My hands slid around his torso and up around his back, holding him close to me.  
  
When he started thrusting, it felt divine. I moaned into the side of his neck as he filled me up again and again. Brian was murmuring my name with every thrust. I kissed his cheek in thanks while squeezing down as tight as I could around him. His hands were squeezing my breasts, forcing dribbles of milk out of my nipples. The rivulets ran down my mounds, down onto my stomach and the sheets.  
  
He kept that up for a while, squeezing my breasts and forcing a squirt of milk out every time he drew himself back.  
  
“If this whole supervillain thing doesn’t pan out, at least we can save on the grocery bill.”  
  
I hit his arm and scowled.  
  
“Man, don’t even joke about that.”  
  
Some online research I’d done when I’d first realized what I’d been dosed with had led me to some not-exactly-medical web sites. I’d never heard of hucows before, and the pictures of vacant-eyed women contentedly strapped into frames while automatic milkers sucked at their breasts had come as quite the shock. I’d immediately tabbed away, looking for the medical advice I’d set out for. Which didn’t explain why I’d visited that site again, later. The thought of me ending up like that sent a shiver down my spine. The wetness in my pussy must surely have been from something else.  
  
I don’t think Brian understood why I responded that way, but he had the decency to pass over it. He kept on fucking and playing with me, drawing me further and further into ecstasy. I didn’t even have to much besides hold him close; he was rubbing against my clit while he fucked me, and my boobs were feeling quite good as he slowly drained them of milk. It would be quite the mess to clean up, but right now I didn’t care. All that mattered were the fires inside my core that he was stoking hotter and hotter.  
  
It felt so good I ended up ruining it by accident. I was hugging Brian tightly, and I hugged him so hard he fell down, barely catching himself with his arms. That, obviously, meant he couldn’t pay attention to my tits anymore with his hands, and, rather than use his mouth for it, he started kissing me instead as his arms snaked between me and the sheets.  
  
I eagerly accepted the replacement, kissing him for all I was worth. Sometimes I kissed his cheeks, tasting the salt of his sweat, and sometimes it was on his lips, tongues twisting around each other. It all felt good, and my orgasm was getting closer and closer. I wanted him to feel good too, so I squeezed down around, making myself as tight as I could.  
  
Brian’s arms were wrapped around me, which meant he couldn’t play with my breasts. But, they still felt good, rubbing against his tight chest. His hands clutched at my back, and I scored lines in his as we fucked. He was so forceful, pressing me into the mattress with every thrust, driving my breath out with every stroke. I loved it.  
  
He broke the kiss to moan out a warning.  
  
“Oh God, Taylor, I’m about to cum!”  
  
My eyes shot open. _Yes_. Getting creampied always felt amazing; getting filled up with his hot, gooey cum. It was absolutely amazing.  
  
“Do it,” I said, in between nipping at his neck, “inside. Stuff,” nip, “me full of,” nip, “your cum.”  
  
Even before I finished speaking, Brian was groaning. I squeezed down around him, arms, legs, pussy, everything, in anticipation.  
  
He came like a fountain inside me, covering my insides with his cum. He snorted in my ear in orgasm, his dick going inside me as far as it could. His cock just wouldn’t stop cumming. I felt at least half a dozen shots of cum before it all blurred together, and each one of them was a hot, almost scalding impact against my walls. It felt amazing.  
  
“Oh Brian, Brian, Brian.” I panted his name as I came, clenching down around him.  
  
My legs were shaking. Hell, my entire body was shaking as he buried himself inside me. It felt like a supernova inside me, pleasure so intense it was blinding. My fingers squeezed tighter, clenched behind his back. I tried to cry out, but my throat seemed glued shut. My voice came out as throaty gasps as my eyes rolled up in my head.  
  
Brian slowly pulled out of me, a stream of cum and quim flowing out of my pussy as his cock left me. I stared down past my breasts at my crotch. A few exploratory fingers slipped inside me showed just how much he had cum. It was a good thing I was on the pill, otherwise I’d be pregnant for sure.  
  
My core still felt tingly, with aftershocks of pleasure racing out of it and traveling down my legs as I slowly fingered myself. I ran my other hand over my breasts, but not too hard. It wouldn’t do to get horny again and not have Brian ready to scratch my itch. Letting them go, I leaned against Brian’s side. He threw his arms around me in a hug and I purred in contentment. But, a few minutes later, I had to break the hug. Tossing him some tissues, we both got cleaned up and threw the wadded, stained paper into the garbage can.  
  
Flopping back down to my bed, I sighed in contentment. As we lay in bed together, sweat drying on our skin, I threw an arm around Brian. I kissed him, then snuggled into his side. He chuckled, and drew me closer.  
  
“What was that for?”  
  
I shrugged as best I could.  
  
“Just wanted to say thank you. For everything.”  
  
Brian smiled at me, his eyes warm. He gave me an one-armed hug, holding me tight against him.  
  
“Me too. I’m glad you’re part of the gang, and that you’re my girlfriend. It means a lot to me.”  
  
I blushed, and could feel my heart going faster. Kissing him again, we laid there in my new bed, talking about nothing much. Half of my mind was on our conversation, another part on how lucky I was to have someone like Brian, and the final part on how much better it would be when we were heroes.  
  
I couldn’t wait.

 

* * *

 

 

A commission for Chojomeka


	4. Chapter 4

 

The music kicked up a notch, and it was time for me to start. I pranced down the walkway to the pole, swinging my hips from side to side. My boobs did the same, barely contained by the thin strip of fabric I using as a bra. It was still bigger than the bottom half of the outfit. I’d heard of clothing compared to dental floss before, but this seemed to be even skimpier, and pressing things that didn’t want to be pressed. Honestly it would be a relief when I took it off and bared myself to the crowd.

 

There were a few desultory claps and whistles as I came into the light, but most of the room was silent. They wanted to see more than just a walk, which was fair enough. Let’s see how much of a show I could put on.

 

I grabbed the pole and struck a pose, flipping my hair around me as I showed off my legs. They were good legs, long and muscled. And every inch of them was masterfully presented. The high heels helped some, true, but most of it was me. If you knew just how to strike a pose, how to turn and twist, you couldn’t help but look good. You could be butt naked, be wearing a ratty old t-shirt, or have a ball gown on you; any could work if you had self-confidence. And the slutty cheerleader outfit I had on? How couldn’t I make it look good?

 

I swung back to the pole, leaning forward and turning my back on the room. I stuck my ass out and swayed it from side to side. The lights pulsing down on me made me look like I had a nice tan, or, depending on which light was flashing, that I was a disquieting purple, green or orange. But most of the time I looked normal!

 

I pressed my chest against the pole, the cold metal sliding in between my breasts, giving a treat to the guys in the pits to each side of me. I didn’t press too much, I didn’t want to snap my ‘bra’ before it was time, after all. But I could slide up and down along it all I wanted.

 

As the music played on, the same loud, monotonous beat, I started climbing the pole. Not the easiest thing to do, when you were wearing six-inch high heels, but I managed. At the top, I got a good, firm leg lock around it, and leaned backwards.

 

My upper body fell to the floor, my hair almost reaching the catwalk. It also made my breasts bounce all over the place, almost falling out of the bright pink and yellow top. I lightened my grip, just enough to let me start going downwards, slowly circling around the pole as I fell.

 

Even as I preformed my demanding routine, less than half of my mind was in the room with me. The rest was in the swarm, filling several city blocks with my presence. I kept half an eye on all of it, of course, but there’s wasn’t much happening I cared about. All that really mattered right now was happening in a room above me.

 

A guy fucking a girl was hardly out of the ordinary in Club Lango, and normally I didn’t bother to pay attention. Tonight, though this guy and this girl were both special to me. The girl was Lisa, or Tattletale, my best friend and the woman who’d recruited me to join the Undersiders. The guy was Stormtiger, a two-bit Nazi thug. Tattletale was using her power to pump him for information, without him even knowing it.

 

My job was to provide back-up in case things went south. And if they did, Lisa would need me to save her ass. She was as squishy as could be, while Stormtiger had been a veteran of the pit fights even before he became a parahuman.

 

Still, all seemed to be going fine so far, and I continued on with my dance. I landed on the stage, and flipped myself upright. Time for my first bit of disrobing. I put my hands under my breasts and shook them, drawing the crowd’s eyes to them. Now for a trick only I could do. I took a deep breath, flexed my shoulders, and my bra popped off.

 

The crowd really started cheering at that, and I grabbed the pink ribbon before it could fall to the floor. Picking it up, I tossed it at the guys sitting in the front row. I didn’t pay attention to who got it, and it really didn’t matter. The important thing was that whoever did end up with it would probably be grateful enough to slip me some money. Admittedly, a twenty or a fifty was kids change compared to what was in the works.

 

Stormtiger wasn’t just here tonight to fuck one the (blonde) girls. He, and the three sacks of shit that the Empire 88 called soldiers, were here to take the Empire’s cut. The first Tuesday of every month, some cape and their lackeys came by to get the club’s protection fee. What I was interested in was if they hit some other shops on their way here, and how much cash they’d be carrying before the night was over.

 

The Undersiders had been looking for an easy score, and hitting a single parahuman (mundanes like the muscle leering at me wouldn’t even be a factor) loaded with used bills sounded like the answer to our prayers. We would just need Tattletale to tell us what stores they would shake down on the first Tuesday of each month, and we’d be set.

 

All six of us would get a few thousand each, and the second part of the plan would get us some rep.

 

But that was in the future. Here and now, I was on a stage, surrounded by catcalling men, wearing high heels, a skirt that was more like a belt, and a thing that almost covered more than the skirt. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I loved it, but I certainly liked it.

 

I climbed back up the pole. I was starting to really feel the burn from my muscles, but I knew I could go for a lot longer than this before my body ran dry. Once I was as far up as I could go, I prepared for a very tricky maneuver. I’d rehearsed and rehearsed until I’d gotten it right, then done it a dozen more times, but that didn’t mean there was no room for error.

 

I wrapped my left leg and arm around the pole, and faced the crowd. I stuck my right leg out, my foot hovering a good five feet above the floor. Muscles straining with the effort of keeping me aloft, my right hand slipped down to the waistline of my skirt and thong. I gave it a weak tug and then another one, pretending to be unable to remove it.

 

That was just long enough, according to the girls who’d been working here for years. Long enough to entice the crowd, get them all excited, without dragging it on too long. And now it was time to get naked.

 

I tore off my bottom, the pieces spinning off to land in the laps of three different guys. Swinging back and forth, I started on my way down the pole. I slowly spun around the pole, showing off every inch of my body to every inch of Club Lango.

 

The entire house cheered as everybody in the room got a good long look at my pussy. There was a muted _clack-clack_ as my heels landed on the floor. I rose up, copying that ballerina pose with the stuck out leg, as the final beats in my routine played.

 

As the song ended, I bowed to every corner of the room, giving whichever customers ended up behind me quite the treat as my pink pussy was framed between my thighs. Wrapping it up, I pranced off stage, shaking almost everything that could be shaken. Claps and cheers followed me, and I smiled to myself.

 

I also smiled to Cindy as she passed by me on her way out to the stage. I went down the hallway and through some doors into the changing room, and flopped down on my chair. I grabbed the bra that was waiting for me.

 

It _looked_ sexy as hell to have breasts as big as mine flopping around every which way, but they were _not_ designed to go unsupported for so long. I’d actually had to redesign my parahuman costume around that fact. There was no way I would have been able to fight, or even run very far with ample support.

 

As soon as I got the bra hooked up, I stood up. I wasn’t done yet. It seemed Lisa and Stormtiger were, though. As I started the cooldown stretches, my bugs felt him getting dressed. I wondered what Lisa would have picked up, but I’d just have to wait. Even if she got down here before the requests for ‘private dances’ started coming in, there was no way we could risk it by talking about here, surrounded by half a dozen other dancers, bouncer, waitresses, or what have you.

 

I pulled the rest of my costume for the night back on. It was another cheerleader outfit, though this one was a lot more substantial. It wasn’t designed solely to be easy to remove with only one hand, for one. It covered a lot more skin, and was more recognizable as a cheerleader costume, with a snarling rooster head on the skirt and top. And the orange and blue color scheme wasn’t too bad, although the color palette did seem to have been chosen for a blond girl.

 

The thigh high socks weren’t as nice, since the dressing room’s temperature was always ten degrees above comfortable, with all the lights and people in a small space. Well, at least I wouldn’t be in here, or in them for much longer. And as I grabbed the pompoms, my outfit was completed. I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like a sexy teenage cheerleader, except for my breasts, which were a lot bigger than any other teen’s. Or an adult for that matter. Still, at least the costume had room for some pads to soak up the milk that Nuture’s damn drug made my body produce.

 

I cupped my breasts, and rolled my eyes as my hands were swallowed by them, as usual. As much of a pain (literally and otherwise) as they could be, my big boobs did make me one of the more popular girls here, even though there were a lot of other dancers who knew more than me, or could dance better.

 

As I massaged my breasts, someone tapped my shoulder. I looked up to see Dacy, one of the other dancers here. She smiled at me, her white teeth a contrast against her black face.

 

“Hey, Tay. The boss grabbed me, said there’s some college kid waving around a bunch of money and wanting you.”

 

I nodded. I wondered who it could be. My bugs weren’t any help. They could find him easily enough, but I just didn’t have the skill to make out details, especially with all the flashing lights and loud music of a stripper bar.

 

“Thanks for the heads up, Dee. You on tonight?”

 

She nodded, running a hand through her hair.

 

“Yeah, two dances from now. Hopefully those Nazi fucks will have cleared out by then.”

 

I nodded in commiseration. They probably would have, since Stormtiger was already on the main floor, heading over to where his goons were leering at Cindy as she dry-humped the pole. Not that I could tell her that. Dacy went off to finish her makeup, dressed as a sexy nurse. I grabbed my pompoms and tucked them under my arm.

 

Standing up, I made my way back out the door and towards my appointment. I hastily toweled the sweat off, leaving behind just enough to give me a nice shine. I knocked on the open door of Lewy’s office. Both he and the client looked up at me. The guy seemed vaguely familiar, though I couldn’t place him.

 

“Good evening, Tawnee,” Lewy said, gesturing towards the other chair in the room. I passed it by, and sat on the customer’s lap. Might as well start now, eh? “This young man is interested in some time with you in one of our private performance areas.”

 

I wanted to roll my eyes at that. Was it really a ‘private’ area when over a dozen men where all fucking some girl, with more waiting in the hallway?

 

“Sure thing boss.” I turned to my client and pressed my hand against his chest. I could feel his body heat through the t-shirt he was wearing. “Come on, big boy, want to go have some fun?” My other hand pressed against something a bit lower. “Oh, you _are_ a big boy, aren’t you?”

 

Truthfully, he was actually just a bit above average, but there was no reason to say that. Clients who’d had their dick size insulted were rarely good tippers.

 

“Now that’s just insulting,” he fired back. “I work very hard to keep the extra pounds off.”

 

Lewy snorted, and even I had to chuckle. There was some meaningless chatter back and forth before he stood up. He wasted no time in swinging an arm over my shoulder and getting a good grope of my breasts. Taking the subtle cue, I led the guy out of Lewy’s office and up a narrow flight of stairs, heading towards one of the empty rooms.

 

I let him shut the door as I lounged on the bed, showing my body off. My smile got a bit more real as I saw him swallow nervously as he stared at me.

 

“I don’t think I caught your name, by the way. Mine’s Tawnee, of course.”

 

“I’m Rory. Rory Christener,” he said as he took off his jacket.

 

My smile stayed on my face, even as a chill ran through me. _Shit_. That was the mayor’s son. And he had been the ‘guest of honor’ at that gangbang Cindy and I had gone to a while back. _Shit_. That was not the kind of complication I needed right now, not when Tattletale and I were going after the Empire 88.

 

And that thought spurred another, equally bad thought, even as I made some bad pun about a Christian boy being in a place like this. What if the two were connected? A _lot_ of the rich white families in Brockton Bay palled around with the League of American Pride, the E88’s white collar half. Could the mayor or his son be part of that? I _really_ didn’t want to fuck a Nazi. Even as I thought that, Lisa’s face popped into my mind.

 

Rory continued talking as my mind raced over what to do and what this meant. He seemed pretty confident and sure of himself. He certainly looked handsome, though in a rather studied way, like he set out to look good instead of it happening naturally. Just like with Lisa, I ignored the makeup on my face.

 

“A while ago you and another dancer here came to a party my friends were hosting. I’d just broken up with my girlfriend, and they were hoping you two could get me over it,” he said with an easy, confident smile. “

 

I nodded, wondering where this was going. Most of my customers didn’t have much to say beyond a muttered stream of ‘oh, fuck’ or a request for a favorite position.

 

“You really made an impact. Not something every girl does, believe me. I did some asking around, and found out your name, so I decided to come downtown and check you out again.”

 

_Please don’t be a crazy stalker. Please don’t be a crazy stalker. Please don’t be a crazy stalker._ I nodded, trying to look carefree as Rory talked.

 

“That’s sweet, but why? I’m sure there’s a lot of girls around for the mayor’s son.”

 

I was just saying the first thing that came to mind, which, admittedly, did beat shrieking and slapping him in panic. As I talked my mind raced over what I could remember him doing since he entered the club. I tagged everyone in the building with an insect as a matter of course, just in case. But I hadn’t really been paying attention to him, since-

 

I felt myself go cold inside. -Since he’d been sitting along the back wall, right next to the Neo-Nazi foot soldiers. And they’d entered the club at the same time. That was not a good sign.

 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he chuckled, “I can pretty much pick and choose who I want to date. And I want to date _you_ , Tawnee.”

 

How sweet. Also, how arrogant. Normally, I’d be getting fucked by now, and I wished I was. Getting literally fucked would be a whole lot better than the metaphorical fucked I was feeling myself inching towards.

 

“Well,” I said with a lightness I didn’t feel, “while I think about that, how about I give you your money’s worth, alright?” I leaned forward, deepening my cleavage to try and distract him “You’re giving a girl a lot to think about, and I want to make sure I make the right choice.”

 

Rory’s eyebrows raised as he walked over to the bed, joining me.

 

“I’m not sure how _not_ dating the mayor’s son could be worse than dating him, but it’s your call, of course.”

 

Rory sat down on the bed, obviously waiting for me to climb up on top of him. Well, he could want that, but it would be a shame to have put this costume on for nothing. I stood up and pranced to the center of the room. Turning around to face him, I slid my hands into the pompoms and rested them against my hips.

 

“Sure you don’t want a cheer first? Hear about the Big Cocks from Valley High?” As I said ‘Valley’ I pushed my chest out, making by breasts jiggle.

 

There was a silent moment before Rory snickered, getting the joke. It had taken me an embarrassingly long time to get the joke about the rooster on the outfit, and I was sure there were still some innuendos I didn’t understand in the cheer lyrics that had come with the outfit.

 

“Sure thing Tawnee. Let’s see some school spirit,” he said, leaning back against the wall.

 

Taking a deep breath, I started the cheer. The words to it didn’t rhyme, or even make sense as a rule, but whoever had written it knew what it was intended for. A lot of references to bubbly… _personalities_ , willingness to please, flexibility, the sort of thing. It wasn’t too long, also, which was good. The entire thing lasted maybe two minutes, and a lot of that was just me shaking various bits and mugging instead of actually singing.

 

I could see Rory looking at me with increasing lust as I spun and jumped around. I made sure that I never moved enough to give him more than just the briefest glimpse of my bare pussy as the miniskirt flashed around my muscled thighs. And, even more luckily, my breasts stayed inside the top the entire time. Stopping to stuff them back inside would not be sexy.

 

As I did the cheer, I got closer and closer to Rory. I ended up on my knees, in between his legs, my face inches away from his crotch. I placed my hands (and pompoms) on his knees, and looked up at him. I licked my lips and smiled at him.

 

Rory grabbed my shoulders and tugged me up. I mentally shrugged. If he didn’t want to wait for a blowjob, then that was all right with me. I positioned myself over his crotch, and wiggled my hips, feeling his cock press against me, even through his pants.

 

“Can’t wait, big boy?” I asked, looking down at him. “Can’t wait to shove your school spirit deep inside me?” I fiddled with my skirt, almost, but not quite, lifting it up enough for him to see. “Surely the mayor’s son was on the football team. Didn’t the cheerleaders ever celebrate with you after a big game? Did they line up all in a row and bend over, and let the players choose whatever set of holes looked best to them?”

 

Oh, you magnificent bitch,” Rory muttered, grabbing my hips.

 

I giggled as he pushed me up, just long enough for him to pull out his dick. Then he pulled me back down, my wet pussy grinding against his bare cock. I gasped at the sudden feeling of heat against a rather sensitive portion of my body.

 

I rested my hands on Rory’s chest, feeling the muscles underneath. I started shifting from side to side and back and forth. I wanted to give his cock a nice coating of my arousal before I sank down on it. I smiled down at him, and he leered back.

 

After a minute or two, we were both ready. I lifted myself up, and Rory grabbed his cock. He held it upright and in place as I lowered myself down. We both gasped as he entered me, his dick sinking deeper and deeper inside me. It felt good. I’d had some low-key arousal bubbling inside me for a while, ever since my dance, and it felt _good_ to scratch that itch. An orgasm would feel even better, of course, but half the fun was in reaching it.

 

I started riding Rory, bouncing up and down and moving from side to side as he encouraged me. My boobs swung back and forth, my cheerleader top barely containing them. Rory decided to help with that by grabbing them, groping my tits as I bounced on top of him.

 

As I fucked him, I tried to think of some more cheerleader innuendos to use. Unfortunately, the costume hadn’t come with anything beyond the pre-written cheer, and I never had much interaction with the real cheerleaders at Winslow. (And what interaction I did have was more than enough). Luckily, Rory didn’t ask for any more talk, and was content to just thrust up into me.

 

He felt good inside me, his cock filling me up with thrust. With a short forward motion every time I sank down, I managed to get a bit of clit play in too, rubbing my sensitive button against his skin. Every thrust made me wetter and wetter, which meant I could go up and down easier and easier.

 

Rory knew how to handle a girl’s breasts, too. Not so forceful it was painful, but not so light I couldn’t feel anything. I pushed my upper body forward a bit, pressing my breasts into his hands. Nobody had hands big enough to cover all of my breasts (even as I thought that, I remembered half a dozen different parahumans who could, several of them right here in Brockton Bay), but Rory did his best with what he could get.

 

As we fucked, I finally came up with another cheerleader innuendo. I took a deep breath, and started chanting.

 

“Gimme a D!”

 

“D!” I said in response.

 

“Gimme a I!”  
  
“I!”

 

Rory looked startled at first, but then he realized what I was doing. By the time I got to K, he was laughing, one hand over his mouth. I stopped before I finished the cobbled-together chant, and glared down at him.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, still giggling. “It’s just, that is such an awful cheer.” He shook his head, smiling. “Oh, if the cheerleaders back at Arcadia could have heard you…” he started laughing again.

 

I folded my arms under my breasts and pouted. That was _not_ the reaction I’d been hoping for. It was supposed to be cool and amusing, deepening the emotional bond we were experiencing as he used my body in exchange for money.

 

At least his cock hadn’t gotten soft while I’d embarrassed myself. That would be the ultimate humiliation, doing something so unsexy that a guy buried inside your pussy couldn’t stay hard. I started grinding back and forth, trying to get Rory to stop laughing and start paying attention to my body (since my mind obviously wasn’t contributing that much right now!)

 

Silence fell back down on the room. Verbal silence at least; there were still groans from both of us, and the sounds of flesh meeting flesh. Rory started playing with my breasts again, and I closed my eyes, the better to feel the pleasurable tingles shooting from my body. They opened as Rory spoke, in a tone so tight I almost didn’t recognize it.

 

“Tawnee,” Rory bit out between clenched teeth. “I’m, I’m getting close.”

 

“Where, ah, where do you want it?” I asked, picking up the pace a bit.

 

“On your face,” he grunted, still thrusting up into my wet pussy.

 

Well, that was easier said than done, since he was still holding down tight onto my hips, but I managed to pull free. I almost fell off the bed as I dismounted, but soon I was between his knees again. I panted for breath as I knelt down, and I was sure my flushed cheeks must have looked good to him.

 

I reached up to grab Rory’s cock, and felt my arousal still on it. I pointed it at my face, and started pumping my hand up and down. He threw his head back and groaned as I squeezed down on his cock. Up and down, up and down. Handjobs, at least, were really easy to practice with. Dildos, bananas, whatever, though lately I preferred to use Brian to practice on. He didn’t complain.

 

I wished I could be masturbating, and getting myself off at the same time. I was pretty horny, after all, and needed something between my legs to fill up that hollowness and make me cum. But my left hand was stroking Rory’s cock, and my right was fondling his balls. There was just no way for me to get off, not in my current position. It sucked, but those were the breaks, sometimes. Maybe I could rub one out later.

 

It only took a few strokes for Rory to reach his limit. Honestly, I would have been insulted if it had taken more. Buried deep inside a hot girl’s pussy as she rides you? It shouldn’t take much afterwards to bring a guy over the edge of orgasm. He groaned, and his cock throbbed in my hand. My other hand, caressing his balls, felt them pulse, and I braced myself.

 

I gasped as the hot cum hit my face. I could feel it splattering along my left cheek and along my nose. I’d had better cumshots, but it was still a satisfyingly large amount. I raised my hands to spread it around on my face, knowing how excited that got guys. It was as sticky and warm as ever. Some of it got onto my tongue, and I noted that Rory seemed to have plenty of fruits in his diet.

 

Rory must have been planning to visit me for a while, as cum just kept on coming. By the time he was done, a good third of my face had his cum on it. I was pretty sure that Brian was the only guy who’d covered me with as much cum at once, and even then, not every session with him left me covered with this much semen.

 

As I blinked, making sure none of the semen got into my eyes, Rory handed me a towel. I smiled up at him as I used to it clean myself off.

 

“Thank you, Rory,” I said, standing up.

 

“No problem, Tawnee. Just common curtesy. Uh,” his gaze flicked away for a second. “Do you want to go out tomorrow?”

 

I’d been thinking about hat during our session, and had enough of an answer to hopefully satisfy him until I talked it over with Lisa and Brian.

 

“I’ll need some time to think about it, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon and let you know.”

 

A moue of disappointment flickered over his face, but he nodded and agreed. After checking to make sure I had his phone number, he stood in the middle of the room for an awkward moment before leaving.

 

As he clattered down the stairs, I sat on the bed and sighed. _Taylor, what are you getting yourself into?_ I got dressed, and decided it could wait. Lisa was starting to get impatient, according to the bug on her tapping leg, and I needed to find out what she’d picked up.

 

Lisa was waiting for me at the back door. We stepped out into the alley, keeping up a steady back and forth of meaningless talk as we walked to Lisa’s apartment, which was only a few blocks away. Once we were safely inside, behind thick walls, Lisa dropped her bubbly act. She slumped down onto the couch, and pressed her palm against her forehead.

 

“Ugh. I was _not_ drunk enough for that.”

 

A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth as I opened her fridge. I grabbed a bottle of water and tossed it to her. She almost fell out of her seat catching it.

 

“The Nazi was a bad fuck?” I asked, turning on the tea pot. I busied myself preparing a cup as Lisa groaned again.

 

“Who knows? He could have been Casanova, and I wouldn’t be able to tell. My power was busy telling me all kinds of disgusting stuff about him.” There was a pause as she undid the cap of the bottle and drained a quarter of it. “And obviously I couldn’t get drunk enough to shut my power off.”

 

I nodded. That _would_ defeat the whole point of the exercise. I was starting to feel bad for Lisa. Leaving the water to heat, I walked up behind her.

 

“Like a back rub?”  
  
She was silent for a minute, and I was starting to think she’d fallen asleep. Then she sighed, and leaned forward.

 

“Yeah, that would feel nice. Thanks.”

 

I rested my hands against her shoulders, feeling the bones poking up through her dress. I squeezed a bit, and started rubbing her.

 

“No problem. So, did you get anything?”

 

“Mmmhh. Yeah, some stuff. Let’s see… The shakedown route Stormtiger or Alabaster or whoever takes varies on where they want to get their throat or dick wet each month. Did find their drop-off point though, so we can just wait a few blocks away for them.”

 

I briefly grimaced. That wasn’t a whole lot to go on. Still, at least with my insects, I could sense them and we could jump them before they got to their safehouse.

 

“Did stumble on some real pay dirt, though. The Empire’s bringing in some guns later this week. Assault rifles, grenades, a bit of tinker-tech, the works. _And_ the gun runners are insisting on payment on delivery, in cash.”

 

I nodded slowly, a smile twisting across my face. That sounded oh so sweet. The Undersiders didn’t need guns, not besides a few pistols, but the amount of money tinker-tech cost? Oh, we could definitely use that.

 

“Did you find out who will be there?”

 

Lisa nodded. Her next words were drowsy. I guessed it had been a long night for her, and the back massage probably wasn’t helping.

 

“Yeah, I-“ she cut herself off, yawning hugely.

 

I laughed, and patted her on the head.

 

“Okay, okay, get some sleep. You’ll just have to tell everyone tomorrow at the meeting.”

 

Lisa mumbled agreement and slowly stood up. As she staggered off to her bedroom, I flopped down on the couch right where she’d just been. Then I stood up to go get my tea. A thought was tugging at my brain. And I’d have something to tell them tomorrow to, or at Brian at least.

 

_Hey Brian, going on a date with a maybe Neo-Nazi soon. Lots of love!_

 

I snorted, picking up my cup. It would be some boyfriend who didn’t have at least some questions about that. Ah well, that was a concern for another day. Ignoring how close that day was (less than an hour, in fact), I settled down on the couch, trying to find the most comfortable spot to sleep in. I could have joined Lisa, but she had a distressing habit of driving her elbows in the stomachs of anyone next to her while she slept.

 

Shifting around, I took a sip of tea and closed my eyes. Another day done, and a good leadup to better days in the future, here’s hoping.

 

“It will be at the old train tracks north of town,” Tattletale said, drawing a circle on the map. Grue and I looked closely at it. Since we were both Brockton Bay natives, the rest of the team deferred to us on travel and local knowledge.

 

“Did you pick up where exactly it will happen?” Grue asked. We were all in our civvies, but I figured it would be a good idea to get used to thinking of him as a cape whenever we were doing Undersider business.

 

“No, but, looking at this map, the railway curves,” Tattletale’s finger traced a line on the map, “away from the highway, behind a hill. If they did the deal there, they’d be out of casual sight, could see anybody coming from three directions, and could be back on the freeway in two minutes. It seems perfect. Unless you guys can think of something better?”

 

I shook my head, and glanced at Grue. He was tapping the table and slowly shook his head too. Regent and Bitch were both watching, with a certain level of disinterest.  Bitch was looking at whoever was speaking, a sullen look on her face. Regent was glancing forth between everyone else, the map, and the room we were in.

 

We still hadn’t managed to find a good replacement for the warehouse Lung had made us evacuate, and all five of us were crammed in the main room of Lisa’s apartment. I hoped our mysterious backer would come through with a new place soon. And not just because Regent was annoying everybody with his demands to ‘find somewhere I can drop my shit.”

 

“And how many capes will be there?” Regent asked. He had started twirling a pen around in his fingers, and I kept on expecting it to fly out and hit one of us.

 

“Four,” Tattletale said, frowning. “Stormtiger, Othala, Victor and Rune. Plus some grunts to actually move the boxes and such.”

 

I winced. That was a large collection of veteran capes. And the gangbangers, but they probably wouldn’t mean much. Glancing around the table, is aw that most of the team shared my concerns.

 

“And the arms dealers? Any capes with them?” A frown was tugging at Grue’s mouth.

 

“Probably. Don’t know who though.”

 

“So at least four capes, maybe more, with muscle? Those aren’t good odds, Tattletale.”

 

“No, but we will have the element of surprise.” Tattletale tapped the map, her finger hitting the wooded, hilly section separating the train tracks from the highway. “We come in on the dogs, you lay down your darkness, and we just hop in the trucks and drive away, laughing and rich.”

 

I stared at her, my eyebrows almost hitting my hairline. There was no way it would be as simple and easy as she was making it sound. For one-

 

“Will the trucks be sticks? Because I can’t drive manuals. Only automatics.” Regent said.

 

“And what about the money? The other guys will have it by then, not the Nazi’s.” Bitch was frowning, though I wasn’t sure in anger or in thought.

 

“She’s right,” I said. “The money’s the important thing. What if we hit the Empire on the way to the deal. We get the money, they still don’t get the guns, and we have five to four odds.”

 

“So, what? We get there five hours before they do and wait for the first car to come down the road?”

 

“More or less,” Grue answered. “We should go out there today and scout it out, but I like Skitter’s idea about how to do this. Any questions?”

 

“Lots,” Regent said, smirking. “But I’ll save them all until about five minutes before we attack.”

 

Grue’s glare washed off like water off a rock. He turned to look at the rest of us.

 

“I’ll go scare up a car for us to go take.” Bitch’s stomach rumbled. “After lunch,” Grue continued, not missing a beat. “Start thinking over plans while you eat, understand.”

 

We all agreed, and Regent and Bitch soon left. I was glad for it. This wasn’t something I wanted to talk about with more people than I had to, especially with someone of Regent’s casual sadism.

 

“Taylor,” Brian said, sitting down in a chair opposite me and Lisa. “What’s up? Your text wasn’t very clear.”

 

I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. I’d thought a lot about how to present this, and used Lisa as a sounding board early this morning.

 

“Last night, I was asked out on a date by one of my clients.”

 

Brian nodded, his face blank as he waited for more information. He, obviously, knew that my job at Club Lango meant fucking other people, and he said he was fine with that. I still had a suspicion that he would have liked to hear more about me having sex with hot girls rather than buff guys.

 

“The guy is Rory Christener, they mayor’s son.”

 

As soon as I said the last name, Brian’s eyes widened and he leaned forward.

 

“What? Are you sure?”

 

I nodded, ticking my points off on my fingers.

 

“Positive. He said so, and I looked him up online today. It’s him. Now,” I leaned forward and tapped the table for emphasis, “I brought this up, and said yes, because I’m worried about who he’s with. There’s a possibility he might be part of the LAP. “  
  
That set Brian back. He’d never told me any stories, but I was willing to bet that he, as a black man, had some pretty unpleasant run-ins with the League of American Pride as well as the Empire 88. That the mayor’s son was part of it, presumably with his knowledge? That could be bad, very, very bad. On the other hand…

 

“If this is true,” Brian said, “ _If_ it is, then this could explain some stuff I’ve heard. But, it could also mean…” he trailed off in thought, before turning to Lisa. “The boss has some kind of big plans for the city, right? It’s why they’re giving us so much cash and intel?”

 

Lisa nodded, hesitantly. I wondered how much she knew about our employer, and how much of it she was willing to share. Brian didn’t ask, though.

 

“So I bet they could use info like this. If the LAP isn’t trumpeting the fact that the mayor’s son with them, that either means he _isn’t_ , or that they don’t want it getting out.” I nodded. His logic tracked so far. “So if we can confirm that Robby or whoever is part of it, I’m sure the boss would be grateful for blackmail material like that.”

 

“Or he isn’t, and we have nothing,” Lisa pointed out.

 

“True,” Brian acknowledged with a nod. “So we have to find out.”

 

I was sure he could see where that thought led to, but I didn’t press him. This would be a touchy enough subject for him without me badgering him.

 

“Okay, Taylor,” Brian said, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead, “I’m… _okay_ with you going on a date with him to try and find out the truth.”

 

I reached over and patted his hand.

 

“Don’t worry, Brian. Anything between us will be strictly on Rory’s end. You’re still my boyfriend.”

 

He nodded, but still didn’t seem too happy about it. Honestly, I couldn’t blame him. There was a difference between knowing your girlfriend had sex with other people as part of her job, and knowing that your girlfriend was going to do on a date with another person.

 

The meeting broke up soon after. Brian went off to get a ride and a bite to eat, and I pulled out my phone. A quick, awkward conversation with Rory got a date set up, in a few nights time. A nightclub called the Palanquin. Lisa almost choked on her drink when I repeated the name, and I glanced over at her.

 

There was an… _expression_ on her face. I couldn’t describe it more exactly than that, but it wasn’t a look I’d forget anytime soon. She silently seethed as I finished arranging the date. Almost as soon as I put the phone down, Lisa was on her feet.

 

“The Palanquin,” she said, almost spitting in rage. “You’re going to go give money to her, that smug, know-it-all, gah!” She looked at my phone like it had insulted her parents.

 

“Who’s her?” I asked, trying not to smile. I couldn’t recall Lisa ever getting this worked up before, and if it was serious, I was sure that one of the others would have already told me.

 

“Faultline,” she said, flopping back down in her seat, and squeezing a water bottle. At my look of incomprehension, she elaborated. “Faultline runs the Palanquin as a hideout for her gang of mercs. She’s a real arrogant bitch, and she poached a firebreather we were trying to get.” She stood back up, squeezing the bottle hard enough I thought it would break.

 

“She acts like she always knows more than you do, and that she’s always the one who’s right and you’re wrong. Oh, she drives me up the wall with that attitude.”

 

I carefully refrained from any comments about anyone else I knew like that. Instead I took a sip of tea while formulating my answer.

 

“I’ll be sure to be on my guard, then. Still, it’s already set up, and I can’t call Rory and say I’m canceling because my friend doesn’t like the parahuman running the place.”

 

Lisa looked like she’d bit into a lemon, but she nodded shortly. She stalked off to the kitchenette and started slapping together some sandwiches. I decided to give her some space, and started thinking about the logistics of this date. What to wear, how to get there, that sort of thing. A few minutes later, Lisa came back over and sat down.

 

Lisa seemed calmer than before, although I still wasn’t going to bring the topic back up. Instead, I just ate the sandwich she gave me. After a while, she finally spoke.

 

“So. The date. He say why he wanted to go there?”

 

I shook my head and tried to swallow the mouthful of bread and meat I’d just bitten off.

 

“Hjust,” I swallowed and repeated myself, “Just asked if I wanted to dance and listen to music.” I flushed at the skeptical look Lisa shot me. “What else I supposed to say? If I put up too much resistance, he might decide to go date someone else?”

 

“Uh huh. Do you know how to dance?” Lisa asked, folding her arms.

 

“No, but it’s not like I know what movies are playing or anything. Anyway, I figured you’d love the chance to put me in a dress that’s right for a night club.”

 

Lisa snorted and rolled her eyes, but I saw a grin tug at the edges of her mouth. After a moment, she came up with a rejoinder.

 

“So you’re saying you’ll wear anything I buy you? Honestly, I thought you were smarter than that.”

 

I said something back, and by the time the rest of the Undersiders returned, we were both laughing.

 

***

 

There was a strong wind tonight, and I shivered. The dress Lisa had helped me pick out did not come with a jacket, or anything to cover my arms with. I supposed the designer had figured that anyone wearing it wouldn’t lack for companions to help keep her warm. But since Rory hadn’t shown up, I felt like bits of me were in imminent danger of freezing solid and dropping off.

 

Rory had told me to wait for him near the Palanquin, at some park about half the size of a city block. At least the view out over Brockton Bay was nice enough while I waited and shivered. I looked at the glittering lights spread out in front of me. I frowned as I also saw the large dark patches like the trainyards and parts of the waterfront. The people living there were having a lot worse night then I was, that was for sure.

 

I had tagged everyone in range with bugs, just in case. Every one that came towards me, I examined as best I could, trying to see if I could find Rory before he entered my line of sight. In the end I failed. I found someone I was _fairly_ confident was him, but couldn’t confirm it until he passed under a street lamp. I waved at him, and he waved back, picking up the pace.

 

As he got closer, I mentally shook my head. There was dressing sexy for guys and there was dressing sexy for girls, it seemed. Rory was wearing a jacket, t-shirt and slacks, just like last time. They were nice looking, and probably designer brand, but it just didn’t do much for me.

 

I, on the other hand, had spent a lot of money and time getting to look as sexy as possible (with Lisa’s help). I was wearing a bright red dress, and not much else. It didn’t cover my arms, and barely covered my upper thighs. If I sat down tonight, I’d either be keeping my legs pressed tight against each other, or I’d be flashing the entire room.

 

The front of the dress wasn’t much better. Lisa had made a joke about it hanging on by static cling, but I didn’t know what that was, and it wasn’t working. I could take small steps, and have my boobs bounce like a kid in a bouncy house, or I could take regular steps, and have them pop out completely. The cleavage in the dress went down to my navel, and there were less than half a foot separating it from the bottom of the dress. A bra was completely out of the question, though I had considered whether my spiders could whip up some kind of undergarment that stop me from hitting myself in the face with my own breast.

 

Lisa and I had spent about two hours doing my makeup, though from what I knew of nightclubs, or Club Lango at least, anything application of makeup less subtle than a paintbrush wasn’t likely to be noticed in the lighting. Make-up, dress and perfume (a subtle lavender scent). I was ready to party.

 

I knew I looked sexy. Hell, I looked more than sexy. Some of the guys and girls on their way up to the Palanquin had done a double take at me, occasionally getting an angry nudge from the person they were with. There was a bit of humor to get out of that, since I was dressed somewhat conservatively.

 

I was not the most scantily clad girl around. I’d seen almost a dozen other women heading to the Palanquin. Some of them had little more than fishnets for clothes, or brightly colored scraps clinging to them. Most of them, like Rory just had their normal clothes, though some were dressed in styles that made my eyebrows climb.

 

I shook my head, snapping myself out of my wool-gathering. I was here to pump Rory for information, not people watch. I walked towards him, my slow pace having nothing to do with my high heels and everything with not wanting to flash an entire street.

 

As we got closer, Rory held his arms out for a hug. I accepted, slipping into his embrace and planting a quick kiss on his cheek. He wrapped my arms around me, and had the decency to keep them above my waist. His warm hands against my bare back felt good.

 

“Hi, babe,” he said. His eyes roamed my figure, though they kept on returning to the Grand Canyon of my cleavage.

 

I softly slapped his shoulder to get his eyes back to mine.

 

“Nice to see you to. Want to head inside?” Okay, that was kind of abrupt, but I was freezing out here. Whatever climate you could wear this dress outside in was not the one Brockton Bay had for eleven months out of the year.

 

“Sure thing, Tawnee.” He let go and gallantly gestured forwards. I smiled.

 

I stepped to his side and we started towards the club. I could already see it, the neon lights lighting up the night. There was a crowd of people there, some waiting in line, others just waiting. I hesitated, not sure of the protocol for this. Rory just kept on walking, though, so I followed him.

 

He talked to the bouncer, a very large man wrapped up in concealing clothes. I was willing to bet this was Gregor the Snail, one of Faultline’s parahuman mercs. Rory didn’t hand over money or anything, just talked to him in a quiet voice for a minute or two. The bouncer’s gaze flicked over to me, looking me over with a cool, dispassionate gaze, before turning back to Rory. Then he nodded, and waved the two of us on through. We both went through the glass and plastic double doors, the music already quite distinct.

 

As Rory paid somebody behind a barred window, I thought over what had just happened. Mystery novels had told me that you tended to bribe the bouncer to let you into the club, but Rory was obviously only paying now, in an aboveboard way. Had fiction lied to me? Or was Rory enough of a regular to be let in on sight? I was sure it wasn’t because he was the mayor’s son. The mayor and his family weren’t that famous, to be recognized on sight. In the end, I filed it as a minor, mildly intriguing question, that could probably be solved just by asking.

 

Later, though. As we entered the main dance floor, I realized there was no way we’d be talking any quitter than a scream. The music was like a sledgehammer against my ears, the fast-paced beat reverberating in my chest. It was a different kind of music from the stuff that played at Club Lango, though I wasn’t enough of a music fan to put a name to either kind. This seemed more lively, somehow, designed to let you lose yourself in the rhythm, instead of Club Lango’s which was just something to provide an accompaniment to the dancer on the stage.

 

Rory mimed taking a drink, before pointing at the bar, on the far side of the dance floor. I shrugged and nodded, and he set out, brushing by dancing people on the edge of the floor. Multi-colored, strobing lights beat down on the room, keyed to the pace of the music. I could barely hear myself think, and my eyes were starting to ache. What a night.

 

There was enough of a crowd at the bar that I didn’t even try to get through. I stood on the outskirts and watched Rory wade in. He was rather less than Moses parting the Red Sea. More like a man with bare limbs trying to get through a thicket of blackberry vines. I lost sight of him in the press, and idly wondered what would happen to the club if the mayor’s son was crushed to death.

 

I wasn’t sure why Faultline was bothering to work as a mercenary. We (Rory, actually) had paid a small fortune to get in, and the drink prices I could see on the digital screens by the bar were all in the high double digits. And the place was packed! I could barely take half a step without brushing against someone. They’d presumably all paid the cover charge, and the dancers were going to be working up a sweat under those lights, and I didn’t see a water fountain. Faultline must be making a mint from this place every night.

 

I was thinking about how to get the Undersiders out of the bank robbing gig and into the hipster robbing gig when someone jostled my elbow. I whirled around, ready to spit fire at whoever thought that just because I had big boobs and was wearing a skimpy dress (and was a stripper) that it was okay to fondle me.

 

But it was just Rory, eyebrows raised and hands wrapped around two drinks. He held them both out to me, letting me take my pick. I couldn’t tell alcohol from a hole in the ground, so his gesture was somewhat wasted. I glanced between the two drinks, trying to decide which one to take.

 

The one on my right was an electric blue, and, I peered closer, half of what I hoped was a plastic battery bobbing in it. My brow furrowed before I got the joke. It was rather arrogant of Faultline to name her drinks after the local superhero’s. So if that one was Battery, I was betting the Kool-Aid red in Rory’s other hand was Assault, or whatever shitty pun on the name the bartenders had come up with.

 

I grabbed the blue one, mouthing thanks. I could have shouted it, not that he would have heard. Hell, with the flashing lights, it was only even odds that he saw my lips move. Rory pointed over to one of the walls, where I could see some tables and chairs. I nodded and followed him, trying not to spill my drink. There wasn’t a whole lot of fabric for it to stain, but, knowing my luck, the smallest drop would show up like the Shroud of Turin.

 

Miraculously, Rory found an unoccupied table. We sat down, and I made sure to take the chair right next to him instead of one opposite him. He smiled at me, and his hand immediately went to my thigh. I wondered if he got this grabby this quick on all his dates, or I was just a lucky girl.

 

I raised the glass to my mouth and took a shallow sip, acting like I took a much larger one. Rory matched me, though without the subterfuge. Good. If he was drunk, and I was sober, I would stand a better chance of getting useful information out of him. Also, it meant I wouldn’t have to have too much of the drink, which had a weird, too-sweet taste with an unpleasant tang to it. Oh well, I didn’t like any of the drinks I’d tried at Club Lango either. Maybe alcohol just wasn’t for me.

 

We chatted for a while, asking each other various questions. I spun fairy tales about my past, and about I hoped my future would hold. And when they weren’t outright lies, they were missing enough information to be the next best thing. My friends in the Undersiders, for instance, weren’t just a bunch of people my age who liked getting out in the fresh air.

 

Soon enough, both our voices were hoarse from talking loud enough to be heard over the music. I took another sip to soothe my throat, and noted that at least a third of my drink was gone already. Rory only had a third of his drink left, but that was still more than I wanted to drink. I resolved to try and pace myself better in the future.

 

Rory knocked back the rest of his drink and stood up. He extended his hand to me and smiled, his white teeth painted a dozen colors by the strobing lights overhead.

 

“Want to dance?”

 

“Sure thing, babe,” I said, taking a measured sip from my own drink. I left it on the table as I stood up. A bit of a waste, but hey, I wasn’t the one paying for it.

 

I walked with Rory, side by side, to the dance floor. I didn’t know a foxtrot from a fandango, but looking at the people on the floor, I didn’t need to. Mostly it was grinding your body against your partner of choice and grabbing whatever bits were left. I could do that. Hell, I did more than that at the club.

 

Rory and I took up position near the edge of the crowd, close in enough to be part of it, but far enough out we wouldn’t have to punch somebody to get some space. We started dancing, Rory more confident than me. I imitated his moves, wondering how long it would take us to reach the dry-humping stage some people around us were already at.

 

Under the lights and the heat, I discovered a hidden advantage to the little red dress I was wearing. There wasn’t much fabric for sweat to stick to. If I thought about it, it was still pretty gross, the idea of sweat just dripping off of me and onto the floor, but at least I didn’t have to deal with my clothes sticking to me as I tried to move.

 

Though nobody touched besides Rory, a lot of people took second and third glances at me. I supposed they’d never seen someone with such big boobs in real life before. And it wasn’t just my breasts. It had taken a while for me to realize it (and Lisa and Brian telling me outright) but whatever witches’ brew Nuture had gotten me with, did a lot more than just make my breasts bigger and milky.

 

It filled me out all over. I still had skinny hips and a small ass, but Brian and Lisa (oaky, let’s be honest, my boyfriend and my girlfriend) both assured me that it looked good on me, and I _knew_ I hadn’t been attractive in the slightest before. The Tinker drug compound had also made my limbs sleeker, though it hadn’t done anything to my muscles, thankfully. I’d have tracked Nuture down if she’d made me lose all those hard months of running.

 

So yeah, I was getting a lot of appreciative looks on the dancefloor. I smiled at one or two of them, selecting the most attractive ones. Rory either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Or maybe he figured that his date wasn’t going to go off looking for stranger cock when his hard-on was pressing against her. Somehow, he felt bigger than that night at Club Lango, though I was sure that was just my imagination. I could still feel the heat and hardness pressing against my bare skin through his slacks, though.

 

I shifted a bit so he could grind against my inner thigh. I realized, that with my dress, our relative heights, and how hard it was to see details, we could probably get away with having sex on the dance floor, surrounded by a hundred strangers.

 

I wasn’t nearly horny enough for that to seem like a good idea, but it still came to me. Also, if we got thrown out of the night club for public indecency, I really doubted Rory would be up for spilling his guts on any L.A.P. connections he might have.

 

Luckily, Rory also wasn’t interested in sex right now. We danced some more, or, more accurately, groped each other, until I started feeling thirsty again. The lights, the crowds, the activity, at Club Lango I’d be chugging water backstage by now. I mimed drinking to Rory, not wanting to strain my voice. He nodded, and we fought our way back to the bar, which, if anything, had gotten even more crowded as the night went on.

 

I hung back a bit as he grabbed another pair of drinks. I wondered how much he was spending tonight. Oh well, I was worth it and he could afford it.

 

A few minutes later, we were both sitting in one of the more sheltered alcoves. The music here was merely loud instead of painful, and I could hear myself think for the first time in an hour and a half. Rory took a healthy sip from his drink and smiled at me.

 

“Having fun Tawnee?”

 

I put on my best happy, slightly ditzy face and smiled back.

 

“Of course, Rory. Is there any way I can thank you for treating me like this?”

 

I ran my foot up his leg, silently suggesting a manner of repayment, not that he needed the hint. His smile turned lecherous as he patted the cushion next to him.

 

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe an idea will spring up.”

 

I took the invitation, and slid over next to him. Then, sure there was enough space for me to fit, I slid up onto his lap. Rory grunted with surprise, but didn’t push me off. In fact, his hands went right around my waist, keeping me there; not that I planned to leave.

 

“Maybe you can help me test out some ideas,” I whispered, running my fingers down his jawline.

 

Rory growled, deep in his throat, and I swore his cock got even harder a it pressed against my ass.

 

“Maybe I can,” he said, flipping up my dress.

 

Or, to put it another way, he moved the bottom quarter of my outfit two inches. Whichever way you put it, his fingers were soon in between my legs, feeling their way up to my core.

 

“God, you’re soaked,” he muttered, as my wet folds seemed to suck him in.

 

I moaned in agreement, pressing back against his crotch. The drinks and the stares had made me horny, and his finger was only making me more aroused. As soon as he pulled his finger out, I spun around so I faced him. I kissed him, long and hard, right on the mouth. Rory kissed back, his hands grabbing my ass.

 

He was an expert kisser, though also a bit of a nipper. I finally pulled back, my lower lip stinging from the light bites. Even though my head was pulled back, my tits were still pressed against his chest. From the way his cock and I were positioned, the only thing stopping him from fucking me right now were his slacks. If they were removed, I could sink right down onto his dick.

 

I moved my hips back and forth, pressing against his cock. He grunted, and his hands squeezed down, sending some pleasant tingles through me.

 

“You want to do it here?” I whispered. “You want to fuck your date right here in public, where anybody could look over and see you?” My face was practically pressed against his ear as I whispered.

 

I felt him shudder, and his shoulders square with resolve.

 

“Yes,” he muttered, his hands diving towards his pants. It took only seconds for him to pull his cock out and I chuckled as it slapped against me, a hot, hard bar against my lower stomach. Well, why should I draw this out?  
  
I lifted myself up and then sank back down. We both hissed as he slid into me, his cock harder than either of the times before. I sank down his shaft, not stopping until I reached the bottom. I wasn’t as aroused as Rory was, in that I wasn’t offering myself up to the first handsome guy I saw, but I was still pretty horny. And his cock felt good inside me.

 

I had my bugs throughout the club, but nothing interesting was going on, and nobody was coming to stop us. Confident in my ability to do this without being caught (or at least to do it without being punished; not the same thing), I started to fuck Rory.

 

I didn’t want to bounce on top of him, since that would draw too much attention to us. But Rory solved that problem. He moved his hips, drawing his cock out and shoving it back in as his hands got a firm grip on my rear.

 

It was hot, fucking Rory in the Palanquin. Somehow, public sex was one fetish I’d never done at Club Lango. The boss wanted to pretend he was at least semi-respectable, so there weren’t any gangbangs of the dancers on the main floor.

 

My body was pressed against him, and his hands were on me as my hands met behind his neck. His cock filled me up again and again as we kissed. Lust was starting to fill my body, and I wiggled my hips, trying to get just that much more sensation out of it.

 

My legs were quivering, wanting to wrap around him instead of being stuck underneath me. My breath was coming in ragged gasps in between kisses, and my shoulders were shaking. I was horny than I’d thought, and was really looking forward to my orgasm.

 

It wouldn’t happen for a while, and I was almost upset at that, wanting the climax of pleasure now, instead of having to wait. I wiggled my hips from side to side, shifting his cock around inside me. He was stirring me up wonderfully, his dick scratching my itch in a way fingers never did.

 

As I bounced up and down, it finally happened. I’d been expecting it to happen ever since Lisa showed it to me, and at least it only happened here, instead of out on the dance floor. My boobs finally fell out of my dress. One bounce, I was frowning as they started to slip, and the next, they were out in the open air.

 

At least nobody besides Rory and I knew it was happening. He smiled in delight as my huge tits pressed against his chest, and kept right on fucking me. Both his hands were busy molesting my ass, so he couldn’t also play with my boobs. A good thing too, frankly. My rear was below the edge of the table and his hands were out of sight. If he was squeezing my breasts? Not so much.

 

Rory came quickly. What was the quote? Wine giveth the desire, and taketh the ability? Well Rory still performed well enough, he was just a bit of a quick shot tonight. His hands dug into my ass as he grunted. I arched my back as I felt his dick quiver inside me. My breath hissed through my teeth as I felt his orgasm.

 

Rory sprayed my insides with his cum, covering my pussy with his hot semen. My grip tightened on his shoulders as I felt a burst of pleasure from it. I could feel his cum filling me, jet after jet shooting in. I could even feel some trickling out of me, escaping from the small gap in between my pussy and Rory’s cock. Pleasure was shooting through me, but it wasn’t enough. I felt it peak, and then start to ebb, still well below what I would need for my own climax.

 

As I felt Rory start to shrink inside me, I accepted I wasn’t going to get an orgasm tonight, or at least right here. Oh well, I wasn’t here to get off. And now that Rory was both drunk and spent, it should be easy to pick up any useful tidbits of information from him.

 

The first thing I did as soon as I got off Rory (after getting him off) was to tuck my breasts back inside my dress. I was facing the dance floor now, and didn’t want to give a show, at least, not if I wasn’t being paid for it.

 

I grabbed some napkins to clean myself up. As I dabbed at myself, Rory reached out a shaking hand and took another drink from the glass in front of him. It was actually my drink, but I didn’t care enough to comment. We were both slightly shaking in exhaustion and the after effects of so much pleasure.

 

Rory set the glass back down with a thump. He smiled at me, and I got the impression he was a lot drunker than he appeared. He drew his hand across his forehead, and I noticed the sparkle of sweat up there.

 

“Wow, babe, you sure know how to show a guy a good time. Don’t you?”

 

I smiled and shrugged my shoulders, making my boobs wobble. I could tell Rory appreciated that.

 

“What can I say? I’m good at what I do.”

 

He smiled, and drained the rest of the drink. I kept my face smiling, even as I started to wonder how to clean vomit out of my dress.

 

“Yeah, I know that feel. When I put on the mask, I feel like, like…” Rory groped for the right word, not noticing what he had just said or my face.

 

Putting on the mask? Unless he was a Mexican wrestler, that meant he was a cape. Not the Merchants, or at least I hoped not. Not New Wave. Not the ABB. Which left either the Empire 88, the Protectorate or an independent hero or villain. How to find out which?

 

“When they hear Triumph’s shout,” Rory giggled, taking another swig from the other drink on the table.

 

I looked at him. Yeah, he could be Triumph. Young enough to have been in the Wards recently, white skin just like the superhero. Would have thought a hero could hold his drink better, though. I wracked my brain, trying to dig up more information on Triumph. I wasn’t a cape junkie, and he was very much the least prominent member of the Protectorate in Brockton Bay, with even some of the Wards being more famous. He had some kind of sonic shout and golden armor, but nothing else was really coming to mind.

 

So, now what? Him being a white supremacist, I mean, proud patriot was almost certainly not true. I didn’t know how much control the Protectorate and Wards had over the lives of their members, but I was sure they wouldn’t let him join the L.A.P. Not that it really mattered. Rory Christener, the mayor’s son, being a member of the League wasn’t nearly as juicy as Rory Christener, the mayor’s son, being Triumph.

 

Now, the trick would be to get through the rest of the night without Rory realizing what he had just told me. That should be pretty easy, for right now at least. It had been almost a minute, and he still hadn’t caught on the fact that he had confessed one of the deepest secrets of being a cape. Hopefully he wouldn’t remember tomorrow either.

 

Even as my mouth moved on automatic, complimenting him on something or other, I ran over what could happen if he did remember tomorrow. He didn’t know my real name, just Tawnee NoName. But he did know where I worked, and Club Lango had both my real name and my address. But, I was already spending way too little time with Dad for them to catch me there.

 

Additionally, there was the question of him even bringing it up. Telling Armsmaster that he drunkenly confessed to being Triumph to a prostitute? That would not look good. So, if Rory remembered this tomorrow, and if he decided to follow up on it instead of hoping I thought he was kidding, there were decent odds that any response would be unofficial.

 

And in that case, I would have to decide between the brainless bimbo who couldn’t catch an implication with a net, or the devoted groupie who would take his secret to the grave. What to do, what to do…

 

I would need to talk to Brian and Lisa tomorrow morning, instead of the noon-ish meeting we’d planned. Our thinking might be a bit muddled by lack of sleep, but bad planning would beat no planning. And our sponsor, whoever they were, would be sure to be more appreciative of knowing the name of a superhero instead of some political blackmail against the mayor. And hell, that could still work.

 

I kissed Rory, feeling a bit bad about how I was planning to screw him over. On the other hand, I wouldn’t have had a clue about his deep darks secret if he hadn’t gotten drunk and started talking about to a woman he didn’t know. He kissed back, our tongues pressing against each other.

 

Rory put his hand around my shoulder, but didn’t try to get any more intimate; not even trying to grab a breast. I was quite content with that. I’d gotten everything I needed, and was hoping the night would end without any more complications.

 

Even as I thought that, I mentally slapped myself. There was tempting fate, and then there was dousing yourself in barbecue sauce and kicking a tiger. Sure enough, I saw a woman making a beeline towards us, an empty glass in her hand.

 

Rory saw her too. His hand tightened on my shoulder, before relaxing. I heard him mutter something indistinct under his breath. As she stalked closer, I felt him take a deep breath.

 

“Hey, Lili. Fancy running into you here.”

 

The woman, Lili, stopped in front of our table, a thundercloud on her face. She was tall, leggy, with dark brown hair. She had a good figure, that her dress showed off well. That didn’t seem to be what she was thinking about right now.

 

“Yeah, fancy running into me at the club _I_ took you to.”

 

Ah. The ex Rory had mentioned. Well, _shit_. Even if this somehow got better, I was willing to bet it would get a whole lot worse first. I supposed Rory had a type he liked. And a truly stunning density, to take his first date to a place where his ex hung out.

 

My face burned in embarrassment, even though I had nothing to do with this situation. I stayed silent, knowing that there was nothing I could say that could help, and a lot that would only make it worse. I hoped Rory would say the right thing.

 

“Hey, it’s not like you own the place.”

 

Goddamnit Rory. It was a struggle not to close my eyes and sigh. The look in Lili’s face was not one I would care to describe. She twitched with rage and I saw her hand ball at her side. It might be time for an intervention. I could hardly do worse, after all.

 

“Hello, Lili. I’m Tawnee. Would you like me to buy you a drink?”

 

She turned her burning gaze to me. I almost flinched back in my seat from the force of it, but kept a pleasant smile plastered to my face.

 

“You’re his new toy? What brothel did he find you in?”

 

That hurt. It was true, but it still hurt. My smile stayed in place, barely, as I thought of how to get rid of her.

 

“Please I insist. Let me buy you something.” I was talking over Rory. He might have known Lili better, but I _really_ did not trust his judgement or tact at the moment.

 

Lili stared at me for a long moment, before a nasty glint entered her eyes.

 

“Fine,” she spat, turning on her heels and heading towards the bar. I was pretty sure she muttered ‘bitch’ under her breath, but I chose not to respond to it.

 

I patted Rory on the shoulder and slid out of the booth. A quick check to make sure I was as decent as I could be in this dress, and I followed Lili, moving through the outskirts of the crowd to the bar.

 

My longer stride caught up with her quickly, and I kept pace with her. As we got to the bar, I reached into my purse. Hopefully I could pay her off and be done with it, and wrap this date up.

 

Lili gave her order to the bartender, and the woman behind the counter said a price that made my jaw drop. Okay, so she was feeling pissy enough to order the most expensive drink the club had. I forked over the money, reflecting that it was only a small part of the money I’d earned with the Undersiders. And at least we’d be making a lot more soon, curtesy of the Empire 88 and the PRT.

 

Lili took the drink as it was slid over to her, and took a hefty swig. I winced, seeing ten dollars disappear down her throat in a single second. She looked at me, her earlier rage having cooled to an icy distaste.

 

“I don’t know if you’re actually his new girlfriend, or he just wanted to get one last kick in. Either way, I don’t want to see either of you around. I’ve been going here before I met him, and I’m going to keep on partying. Got it?”

 

I nodded. I imagined if I ever did come back, it would be as Skitter anyways.

 

“Got it. Enjoy the drink.”

 

Lili snorted and turned her back on me. I walked away, rolling my eyes. And now for the next wonderful occurrence, maybe the roof could cave in.

 

I got back to the booth without any interruptions, and sat back down next to Rory. He waved, and spasmodically grinned.

 

“So, uh, Lili,” he cleared his throat. “She’s quite the girl, huh?”

 

I looked at him, raising my eyebrows.

 

“I’d rather not talk about your former girlfriends right now, _darling_.”

 

He took the hint, subsiding into silence for a bit. After a while, he asked me back onto the dance floor. We danced for a while, though some of his earlier flair seemed to have disappeared. About an hour later, we left the club, both of us danced and drinked out, him more than me.

 

“So, Tawnee, did you have fun?”

 

I did enjoy myself, more than I was expecting, at least.

 

“Of course, Rory! Thank you for treating me.”

 

“No problem,” he said yawning. “Wow, I’m beat. Listen, let’s talk soon, alright? I call you.”

 

I nodded. Would he call me? Who knew. I would have to think about how far I was planning to take this, and maybe I would call him back. I’d have to see.

 

I got Rory home safe and sound, although I was sure he’d have a hell of a headache tomorrow. I waved goodbye to him, and then started back to Brian’s apartment. He was closer than Lisa, and I wanted to do something nice to him to make up for tonight.

 

It was late, and Brian wasn’t expecting me, but I knew how to get into his apartment. Okay, I knew two ways in. But I wasn’t going to sting him with bees until he let me in. I’d use the access codes instead. A small swarm got Brian’s keys out of his pocket and started flying them towards the entrance. This late at night, there was no one around to comment on the black, amorphous sphere carrying a set of keys towards the front door of the apartment building.

 

I climbed the stairs to Brian’s apartment. He had one high enough to give a good view of the apartment building across the street, but not much more. He was sound asleep in his bedroom. I paused for a moment as my bugs scouted out the rest of the apartment. There was another bedroom there too, empty. A guest room, maybe? It didn’t seem lived in, though I didn’t see why Brian would pay extra for an unneeded room.

 

I shook my head, concentrating on what I was going to do. An idea had come to me as I walked here, and I wanted to make sure I could do it. A quick check of the fridge and a couple of drawers, and I found that I was good to go. I lay down on the couch and closed my eyes. I could still get a few hours of sleep and still be ready before Brian woke up.

 

I woke up early, a bit early then I needed to. I had trained my body to get up before it was light out to go running, and it still insisted on getting me up at that time even when running wasn’t the morning exercise I had planned.

 

I was more than ready by the time Brian woke up. In fact, I was starting worry that I had gotten up too early, and my little make-up gesture would be ruined by the time he got his (deliciously toned) ass out of bed.

 

My bugs felt him stirring, and heard a muffled sound, probably him asking himself what was happening. I heard him stumble out of his bedroom, coming out to the main area. I looked over my shoulder at the exact second he saw me.

 

“Good morning Brian. What would you like for breakfast?”

 

“Whu?”

 

I giggled. Brian had a very cute befuddled expression as he looked at me in incomprehension. I bet half of it was it just being too early for his brain to really be running right. The other half was seeing his girlfriend cooking for him, wearing nothing more than an apron.

 

I winked at Brian, who was rubbing his face. Letting the sausages cook, I grabbed the cup of coffee I’d made earlier and brought it over to him. I pressed the mug handle into his hand, and his fingers closed over it and my hand. I tugged him forward, directing him to the counter that served as a kitchen table.

 

Brian sat down, obviously still not fully processing what was happening. But he was getting there, as he drank his coffee and blinked owlishly at me as I turned back to the eggs and sausage. I swung my hips from side to side as he looked, giving Brian a show.

 

I sat down a plate full of eggs, sausage and a blueberry muffin down in front of Brian. He looked down at it, and then up to me. Knife and fork were in his hands almost before I drew my hands back.

 

“Thank you, Taylor. What’s the occasion?”

 

I shrugged, exaggerating the motion to draw his attention to my chest.

 

“You were such a good sport about the whole Rory thing. And cooking’s fun.”

 

Brian snorted, taking a bite out of the muffin.

 

“I bet it’s better when you get to actually eat the food. Aren’t you hungry?”

 

I shook my head, my hair flapping against my sides.

 

“Nah, I ate before you got up. Had to do _something_ while you slept for hours and hours, whiling the morning away.”

 

He snorted in amusement. It wasn’t even seven yet, and my bugs told me that a full half of the people in the apartment building were still asleep.

 

“I feel bad eating by myself,” Brian said, smiling at me. “Why don’t you have a sausage?”

 

I leered back, both of us interpreting his innuendo correctly. I crawled underneath the counter. Brian spread his legs to give me plenty of room to work with. His penis was already poking up, forming a tent in his boxers. I pressed my hand against it, feeling the warmth. I rubbed my hand back and forth, thinking about how I wanted to do this. Blowjob? Titjob? And should I bring him all the way to orgasm or not? After all, if I did, we wouldn’t be having sex, real sex I mean, right away.

 

I pulled down Brian’s boxers, admiring his hard cock. It was big and black, and I knew how nice it felt in me, ass, pussy or mouth. Even between my tits. I sighed, remembering giving Brian a titfuck, wrapping my breasts around his length to better give him pleasure, and the wonderful feelings that shot through me as I did; my breasts tingling delightfully, my hard nipples rubbing against my hands, so many good memories.

 

I kissed Brian’s dick, my lips pressed against his lower head. I heard him gasp above me, and I could picture his grip tightening around the silverware. I smiled as I kissed my way down him cock, from his red head to his heavy balls. I sucked on both of them for a bit before I started to kiss my way back up.

 

When I got back to the top, I leaned up. I was going to have to lay my head to one side for this to work, but it would be worth it. I wrapped Brian’s cock around my tits, his entire length sinking into my cleavage. My right ear was pressed against the bottom of the table, and I knew if I took too long here, my neck would be sore for the rest of the day. But, all I needed to do was give Brian a nice time. His orgasm would come inside my pussy, not in between my tits.

 

I lifted my body up and down, Brian’s dick sliding in and out of my tits. But even on the highest upstroke I could manage, his cock still didn’t fully leave my tits. And when I sank down, only his head poked out from my cleavage. If I had more headroom, I would have kissed it every time it appeared, but that just wasn’t happening here.

 

I heard the clatter of cutlery against the plate slow as my titjob felt better and better. I smiled to myself. Sure, it was a waste of food, but Brian had plenty more in his fridge, and it was a nice compliment to me that I was so distracting. I pressed my tits together, as hard as I could, to give Brian as much pleasure as I could.

 

My apron helped with that. It wasn’t that tight across the chest, but even a little bit helped form some enticing cleavage. I could feel my pussy start to moisten. Half of it was from what I was doing, since it sent little tingles of pleasure through me. The other half was from my thoughts of what we’d be doing later. I’d once thought I didn’t have a sex drive, but Club Lango and Brian and Lisa had all shown me that I was as stacked bundle of horniness, just like any other teenager.

 

A big problem with giving titjobs was that it was impossible to masturbate. Maybe if I was wearing some kind of extremely tight top I could, but the apron I had on was about as restricting as a burlap bag. I needed both of my hands pressed against my breasts if Brian was going to get any friction at all.

 

Of course, I was and he was, and my boyfriend was obviously enjoying himself. It had been a while since I heard him eat anything, and a quick glance up showed that he was gripping the counter edge. It wouldn’t take much more, I thought.

 

I saw the signs that Brian was getting close to his orgasm. I regretfully stopped, letting my breasts fall away from his cock. I kissed it in apology, before shuffling to the side. His dick quivered as I let go, and I heard Brian hiss in frustration. Poor baby. How would I make it up to him?

 

I crawled out from beneath the counter, stretching and rolling my head. I looked at Brian, and we exchanged smiles. I wanted to keep the sexy, intimate mood going.

 

“Thanks honey, I really liked the taste of that sausage. How about we, uh, we…” my mind went blank on any further innuendos. Brian snickered as I rubbed my face.

 

“Shut up, man. This isn’t as easy as it looks.” I thought some more as Brian composed himself. Still, nothing came to me. Giving up, I threw my hands up into the air.

 

“Whatever. I’m going to fuck you now.”

 

“Are you expecting me to say no or something?” Brian asked, setting his fork and knife down.

 

I sashayed around the counter as Brian pushed his chair back, making room for me. I slid down onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. Not the best position for eating, but I didn’t much care. My back pressed against the counter as I leaned in as close as I could.

 

We kissed, half out of lust and half out of love. Brian pressed me against him, and I could feel _him_ pressing against my lower stomach. Our hands wandered over each other, even as the half-eaten food cooled behind me. I loved looking at and feeling his muscles. They weren’t so developed to be a parody, but, unlike Alec, he actually had muscles you could see and touch. Brian fit in the perfect sweet spot, in my opinion.

 

I raised myself up and then sank back down. I moaned, feeling Brian penetrate my wet folds. I sank further and further down, until our thighs met. We both sighed in anticipatory happiness. Then I rose back up.

 

I’d just gotten a good rhythm going when I heard a sound outside the door. My bugs told me that there someone on the other side. I’d been tracking them, but hadn’t realized they were coming here. Even in the time it took those thoughts to run through my mind, the door was unlocked.

 

My gaze snapped over to the front door as it swung open. There was a beautiful black girl there, wearing a backpack and some clothes that covered about as much as the backpack. She took three steps into the apartment before she looked up from her phone. Her look of self-assured happiness lasted for a heartbeat before shifting into shock.

 

“Bro, what the fuck!”

 

My gaze snapped from her back to Brian. Blood was draining from his face, turning his dark cheeks to a rather ghastly shade. _Bro?_

 

“… Hey, Aisha.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Skitter Stripper 5**

I shivered, wishing the sun was hotter. It was still too early in the year to be lying outside, unmoving, for hours on end with feeling winter’s bite. At least I’d have the chance to get the blood flowing soon. And hopefully, if that thought ended up being literally true, it wouldn’t be my blood.

 

Down the hillside, it looked like the deal was wrapping up. Stormtiger and the head arm dealer were shaking hands, and both their grunts were moving boxes from the dealer’s van to the E88’s truck. Soon it would be time to move. We’d wait until the duffel bag of money was in the dealer’s car, and then we’d strike.

 

I looked around as much as I could without moving my head. Around me, my friends were getting ready. Faint wisps were starting to form along Grue’s body, Regent had his gaze fixed on Rune, the most dangerous of the E88’s parahumans. Tattletale was fingering her pistol, and Bitch had her hands pressed against her dog’s flanks. They were starting to make noise already, but I doubted anybody could hear us from up here.

 

For my part, I had been sending more and more bugs in and around the group ever since they arrived. By now, the bugs I had there weighed more than the capes, and nobody even suspected that they were in trouble.

 

We were ready to deliver some disproportionate force, and, since all of the gun runners were wearing wife beater shirts and bare faces, we only had four capes to worry about, all of whom the Undersiders knew about. And if one of the arms dealers was a cape slumming it? Well, he obviously wasn’t a precog, and that was about the only thing that could save them now.

 

Grue held his fist up and then swung it down. Showtime. A black cloud blossomed over the group, and my bugs attacked. The only sound was from the one sentry who’d been on the edges of the cloud. He staggered out of it, clawing his face as hornets covered him. I saw Regent angling towards him, scepter buzzing as all of us charged down the slope into the cloud.

 

Bitch’s dogs, already bulked up into pony sized nightmares of scales, fur and bare muscle, were out pacing all of us as they sped down the hill, tearing through the undergrowth. Bitch was just behind them, running for all she was worth to try and keep pace with her pack. The rest of us followed, running down the paths of crushed vegetation the dogs had formed.

 

Tattletale was hanging behind us, as was right and proper. Just because she had a pistol didn’t mean she was any good in a fight, and she could do far more by telling us what was about to happen then getting her face caved in by a Nazi.

 

Already we were at the bottom of the hill, and charging across the grass into Grue’s cloud. Channels opened up for us, a straight path to where we needed to go. I shifted my grip on the baton in my hand. Any thug who wandered into one of those openings by mistake would have a second to blink in the light before getting a foot of metal in the gut.

 

This should be over in five minutes, and it should go just as easily as our last job.

 

* * *

 

 

I was beginning to think I wasn’t doing the right thing. There were a lot of little clues hinting towards that. The terrified faces of the people crouched on the floor, staring at me. The flashing blue and red lights from the cop cars outside. The scowling superheroine staring at me. Oh yes, and the way I had a knife to the throat of one of Brockton Bay’s leading lights of hope, Panacea.

 

Her sister Glory Girl, was hovering a few feet above the dusty and cracked marble floor. She was spotless and immaculate, and didn’t seem to belong in the battered lobby. She was switching her gaze between me and Tattletale. Tattletale had a pistol pointed at her, though what she thought that would do against a Brute I had no idea.

 

I was holding Panacea close to me; so close her head was actually in between my breasts. I supposed it could have been sexy or titillating, but I did have a knife to her throat. I wasn’t sure I could bring myself to use it, but so long as they didn’t know that, it would be a good threat.

 

I frowned under my mask as Tattletale mimicked Glory Girl’s gaze, turning her head to look between us in sync with the hero. What was she playing at? Whatever it was, it better happen quick. We were on a time limit here, and I didn’t want Grue and the others to walk out of the vault into a standoff.

 

“So, Glory Hole,” Tattletale had an evil smirk growing on her face as she turned her gaze away from me and Panacea. “You’re going to go lock yourself in the vault, my friend is going to put away her knife, and everything is going to be great.”

 

“And what on earth makes you think there is the slightest chance of any of that happening?” Glory Girl asked, slowly floating over towards Tattletale. She stopped a good distance away as Tattletale sent a warning look towards me.

 

“Because I’m a mind reader.” Tattletale continued over Glory Girl’s contemptuous snort. “And I’ve been rooting around the minds of both of you, and oh, what lovely little secrets I’ve discovered about you and your sister.” I could feel Panacea stiffen beneath me. Tattletale turned and winked at- me? Or my hostage?

 

“How about it Ames? Want me to share with your sister some of your secrets?”

 

“Fuck you, you goddamn bitch.” Panacea flipped her off.

 

I could _see_ that Glory Girl was getting more and more pissed, and that she wanted to smear Tattletale across the bank wall behind her. I was starting to worry that she would get so mad, she’d actually do it, and only remember I had her sister hostage later.

 

“Fine. Okay, let’s start with the fucking obvious. You’re gay. You hate all the effort dear old Vicky spends setting up dates for you, because you know you’ll never have the slightest iota of attraction to a single one of the hot studs she sets you up with.”

 

I could actually hear Panacea growling like a mad dog in the back of her throat. I wished Tattletale would hurry up and find a way to get Glory Girl out of the way so we could get out of here. My bugs were telling me the rest of the team was just about done, and I didn’t want to see how long Bitch or Regent would wait around for us with the cops closing in.

 

A series of emotions played across Glory Girl’s face as she processed Tattletale’s revelation.

 

“So she’s gay. Is that supposed to be some horrible revelation? I don’t know what decade you’re living in, but the only people who care- Oh.” Glory Girl badly pantomimed surprise. “The only people who give a shit about that are the Nazis. You want to tie yourself to them, blondie?”

 

Tattletale smiled a tight, humorless little smile. She shook her head and took another idle step to the sides, waving her gun around at the nearby people.

 

I stiffened. Tattletale had been slowly idling around the foyer, getting closer to me. She was close to me, only a few steps out of arm-reach. Now, her back was to a corridor only a few yards behind her, and my bugs were telling me that it led straight to the rear of the building. The rest of the Undersiders had won their fight against the Wards, and were riding Bitch’s dogs around back there. Down the hall, through a (electronically locked) door, and we were home free. Of course, that assumed we could outrun the fast, invulnerable flyer. Tattletale better have a plan to deal with Glory Girl just like she better have enough mental endurance to figure out the combination for the locked door.

 

I narrowed my eyes and took a closer look at her. While she was waving her pistol around and drawing attention to it, her other hand was on her belt, right next to some purple cylinder.

 

I had an idea what her plan was. I shifted myself, ready to act in an instant if it was what I though. I also decided to help her out. As the rest of the team arrived in the loading area at the back of the bank, I formed an arrow of bugs pointing at the door. I used some other bugs to form a very haze word floating above it. BITE.

 

I felt Bitch spur her dog forward, the van sized monster bounding towards the rear wall. My bugs scattered as the pair came in. Even in the lobby, I heard the muted crash of the impact. Glory Girl quickly glanced over at the corridor, but her gaze shot back to the rest of us quickly enough.

 

As Tattletale continued talking, Bitch’s dog opened its jaws wide. A person could easily fit their body inside that mouth, if they didn’t mind getting cut by the many sharp teeth inside. The dog bit into the doorframe and twisted its head. The bugs I had scattered on it felt the metal twist, and then the fog bit down again. This time, the door came flying off, half of it in the dog’s mouth, the other half skipping along the asphalt, kicking up sparks.

 

“And it’s not just any girl she’s interested in. She really wants-“

 

Right in the middle of the sentence, Tattletale grabbed the object off her belt and threw it at her feet. Thick grey smoke started billowing out, and just before her form was obscured, I saw her turn and run. And that was my cue to do the same.

 

I gave Panacea a hard push away from me and dashed through the smoke. With my bugs, I had a perfect map of what was around me, even better than sight. I jumped over a fallen end table as I heard my former hostage curse behind me. Tattletale was already a good way down the corridor, just getting clear of the smoke. My bugs told me that Glory Girl was flying over to Panacea. Good. That would buy us maybe ten seconds, but unless Glory Girl wanted to fly through possibly weight-supporting walls, that should be enough.

 

As I pounded through the smoke, I could feel the rest of my team and the dogs, bags full of money strapped to their sides. I burst through the acrid smoke, hearing Grue and Regent encouraging me to get on the fucking dog. I grabbed a bone spur and hauled myself up onto the closest dog’s back. Even before I got up there, or even before my feet left the floor, Bitch whistled and the dogs started off. We’d just need to jump some cop cars, already blanketed by Grue’s power, and we were home free.

 

I almost couldn’t believe it. It had actually worked. We had robbed a bank, taken hostages fought two superheroes, and gotten away with it.

 

I also couldn’t believe Tattletale color coordinated her grenades to match her outfit.

 

 

* * *

 

It was Amateur Night at Club Lango again. There was the usual mix of college co-eds, down and out athletic instructors and others. It was pretty crowded tonight, and there were still more people in the anteroom. It was going to be standing room only in a few minutes.

 

Lisa was with me as we looked out over the main room. Neither of us were due on stage yet, but there were some discrete spots where people behind the stage could look out over the audience chamber without being seen. Cindy said it was to help the dancers find any boyfriends or deadbeats they didn’t like before they had to go out on the stage.

 

Lisa nudged my side and chuckled as the current performer’s heel flew off her foot and smacked her in the face. A smile tugged at my lips. That was the lowest point so far, but not that much lower than the average. I doubted anybody here would end up working for the club, even on a part time shift like Lisa.

 

“Hey look, it’s your boyfriend.”

 

I followed Lisa’s finger and sighed. Rory was back. He was sitting with a group. Two other guys and two girls. I could only see the back of the heads of both girls, but one guy was a blonde Hispanic and the other also looked blonde. Three blondes all at once. Ah great. I’d already been told that a client had requested a private party with his party, me and Lisa, and I was willing to bet a hundred bucks I was looking at the guy who had booked us.

 

It wasn’t that Rory was a bad lover, but I did feel guilty over the whole ‘selling his secret identity as a superhero to my mysterious, probably not benevolent client’ thing. The only saving grace was that it seemed that Rory didn’t remember that he had drunkenly spilled the beans to me when he called me the next day.

 

He had been nursing a hangover, and had apologized in case he had acted badly the previous night. That made me feel like a rat, and I’d done my best to deflect his requests for another date. I’d thought it had worked, but here he was, with friends. Great.

 

I felt a tug at my elbow. I looked over and saw one of the bouncers, Gary standing next to me. He was holding out a sheet of paper. I took it and he grunted, turning away. My, but he was feeling eloquent today.

 

Lisa peered over my shoulder as I read the missive from the boss. I caught her eye and sighed as I realized what it said. The group who’d reserved our attention for the night had sprung for the Birthday Bash upgrade. That meant the two of us would be going out on the floor to entertain them before all of us moved to a private room, where, undoubtedly, Lisa and I would be fucked all night long as the boys (and maybe the girls) got their money worth.

 

Lisa and I made our way through the crowded floor. I honestly wasn’t sure if the two of three gropes I got along the way were because people couldn’t obey the ‘Do not touch the staff’ signs prominently posted everywhere, or if it was because Club Lango was just that crowded tonight.

 

As we got closer to the table, I put on my best happy smile. At least we wouldn’t have to sing the birthday song; it was so loud in here that you probably couldn’t hear gunshots, let alone a song. As I ducked around a necking couple, I got my first look at the entire party.

 

I kept my welcoming smile on as I screamed internally. It was Glory Girl! It was motherfucking Glory Girl standing two feet away from me! I felt like I was about to piss myself, and would have ran if I thought I could have gotten away.

 

And that had to be Panacea right next to her. Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_. I didn’t know who the other two guys were, but they _had_ to be superheroes. Clockblocker? Assault? Who knew. But I was about to spend the rest of the night cozied up to people who would love to give me a black eye and then throw me and Lisa in jail. Oh _boy_ this was going to be a fun party.

 

Lisa draped herself over me as I addressed the party. Her hands wandered over my body, attracting the gaze of the three guys, especially when she went next to my boobs.

 

“Hi everybody! We heard that there’s a birthday boy here, so Sara and I came over to give him a great big treat! I’m Tawnee by the way, but you guys can call me whatever you want!”

 

Not only did I manage to keep my voice even as five superheroes looked at the wanted criminal, I even managed to sound peppy as I talked. Also, I was really hoping it was Rory or the others guys who had the birthday. Otherwise, talk about a slap in the face to the special guest.

 

Luckily, the Latino-looking guy raised his hand. Both Lisa and I gave him our best smile as I tried to figure out how we were going to sit down with them. The booth was built for five people, and, while I doubted the boys would mind Lisa and I sitting on their laps, the two girls were blocking the easiest access.

 

Lisa and I split up, sliding in at each end of the booth. It would leave the poor guy in the center without an attractive, attentive girl pressed against him, _but_ , if he was gay, at least he’d have two hot guys to rub against. And if he wasn’t, oh well.

 

It would be a tight fit for all six of us, but I doubted most of them would mind. Also, we’d be pressed together so tightly that I’d have to move all of an inch to start giving a lap dance. As I tried to figure out the easiest way in, Lisa just hopped over the back of the booth, making Panacea and the guy she was next to jump. I decided not to imitate her. Instead, I just slid in, rubbing my rear against Glory Girl’s lap and ‘accidently’ putting my hand on Rory’s crotch.

 

I found myself in between Glory Girl and Rory. As I tried to get comfortable, Glory Girl leaned over to whisper in my ear. My nostrils were flooded with the sweet lilac scent of her perfume.

 

“Listen, me and Amy are here for her, okay? She likes blondes, so can your friend pay attention to her?”

I nodded. I’d kind of guessed that, since Panacea had been staring at Lisa so intently. I stretched my leg out under the table. I kicked at another leg, and, luckily, got Lisa. I caught her gaze and nodded meaningfully towards Panacea, who looked like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to throw up or storm off.

 

Rory coughed and waved his hand around the table. His voice cut through the noise and hubbub of the crowd and we could all hear him.

 

“Carlos, Dean, Victoria, Amy, this is Tawnee and Sara.” We all nodded and said hello to each other. “Like I said, it’s Carlos’s 18th birthday, so I figured I should get him the best present around.”

 

“A foursome?” Lisa had a wide grin as she interrupted Rory’s flow.

 

“Uh, no. Just a nice night with two beautiful women.” Lisa opened her mouth again and I shot her a quelling look. “Victoria and Dean are just here to help out her sister find a date.” I nodded slowly. I couldn’t believe that Lisa’s conversational gambit at the bank had worked, or at least worked like this.

 

I didn’t even look up as the music was turned down and the P.A. crackled to life. It had been a minute since the last amateur dancer was up on stage, so I knew what Lewy was going to say. Sure enough, it was just another round of encouragement for any girls in the audience to get up on stage and do their best dance, in exchange for a few bucks and lasting Internet fame if they messed up amusingly enough.

 

I _did_ look up as Victoria drained her drink and slid out of the booth. She wasn’t-? She _was_. The entire table looked at her as she started towards the stage. At first, I didn’t think anybody was going to say anything, just watch in shocked silence as Brockton Bay’s most famous teenage superheroine prepared to do a strip dance in front of a hundred people.

 

Then Amy hissed her sister’s name. Glory Girl turned back, putting her hands on her hips as she looked at the table. I had to admit, she certainly looked good enough to win this, especially if she showed half as much control as she did at the bank.

 

“Vicky, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Panacea probably meant to hiss that, but with the ambient noise of the club, she had to shout.

 

“Please, Ames, I’m just having a bit of fun. It’s not like I’ll use my real name, anyways. Come on, I’ll split the money with you.”

 

Victoria turned and left before her sister could say anything more. Amy’s face turned an unpleasant shade as she looked at her sister’s back. Correction- a lime green light was shining on Amy’s face already, so she actually turned a different unpleasant shade.

 

I turned to Rory. His expression of unease was mirrored on my face.

 

“Should I go talk to the boss? Try and make sure she doesn’t get up on stage.”

 

Rory hesitated before shaking his head. Doubt and worry were still written all over his face.

 

“No- no. You couldn’t get to them before she starts, and I don’t think anyone would be able to talk her down without making an even bigger scene. I think.”

 

I nodded. At least somebody was thinking about the reputation of New Wave’s younger generation, even if it seemed a wee bit late to be worrying about it _after_ you were in the strip club. And I’d lost my chance to stop Victoria before she got on stage anyways. I just crossed my fingers that she would remember not to fly. And that the house lighting continued to be enough to make anybody look like anything.

 

A swirl of bright, multi-colored lights played across Victoria as she climbed up onto the stage. There were some cheers, but the crowd had seen a lot of pretty women who had utterly bungled their dances tonight. At least Victoria looked confident enough, and hadn’t obviously been pushed up there by her so-called friends. She smiled at the crowd and took a deep breath. Then she started to dance.

 

It quickly became obvious that her parents had given Victoria dancing lessons. She moved with a sure grace, almost as confident up on there as one of the real dancers. I couldn’t give her the full attention such a brilliant first-time performance deserved, as Rory’s hands started running over my legs, but Victoria was really rocking the stage.

 

I noticed that she had the good sense to keep the clothes she discarded on the stage instead of throwing them out to the audience like some of the more enthusiastic girls had done. They didn’t get them back, and there were still some shirtless or skirtless bodies in the club.

 

Anyone who looked at the many, many publicity stills or interviews of Glory Girl could have told you she was hot. But it was one thing to look at a newspaper photo and see a good-looking girl in a tunic, cape and Lady Liberty crown, and another to see her making her boobs jiggle as she leaned towards the crowd.

 

I glanced around the table to gauge reactions. Lisa had the world’s biggest shit-eating smile on her face as she watched somebody who had argued with her pull off her bra to the cheers of a bunch of strangers. Amy was alternating between looking at the stage and being mortified, and looking away and being mortified. Rory and Carlos both had huge blushes on their cheeks, but weren’t passing up the free show. And Dean was watching raptly without any sense of embarrassment at all. In fact, he had the same look Brian had when I danced for him. The two of them must be dating, I decided.

 

The crowd was about as well-behaved as you’d expect for a strip club. There was some clapping and wolf whistles going on, but, thankfully, no cameras. The club’s ‘no pictures’ policy was _strictly_ enforced (with a hammer), so there was the remote chance that Victoria could get out of this without someone putting the pieces together about who she was.

 

Victoria was down to her underwear now. I coughed on my glass of water as I saw Glory Girl’s taste in panties. It was a tight thong in her costume’s colors, riding high on her hips. It was about as skimpy as the underwear the professional dancers wore on stage, and I would have bet good money that if I was closer, I could see some cameltoe. Did she always wear racy underwear or was tonight a special occasion?

 

The song finally ended, and Victoria stopped dancing. She bowed, facing our table and getting a round of applause. She grabbed her clothes and walked off the stage, giving the entire room an excellent view of her swaying ass as she went.

 

She disappeared behind the rear curtain, and the entire booth breathed out. We’d have a while before Victoria rejoined us, especially since Lewy would be trying to recruit her. Hopefully that would give us all enough time to regain our composure. Or at least, for the guests to get their head back in the game. Lisa and I were pretty used to attractive, half-naked woman.

 

“So,” I broke the ice, “did any of you fine gents know she was going to do this?”  
  
Rory and Carlos shook their head, apparently still struck mute. Dean had a self-satisfied smile, and I wasn’t sure he had heard me. Amy was the only one to speak up, rubbing her eyes.

 

“Of course, we didn’t. How stupid would we have to be do bring her along if we knew she’d just throw herself at some strangers.”

 

I felt my eyebrows climb. That sounded a bit more bitter than seemed justified. Family trouble? Or maybe a strip club with a stranger draped on her just wasn’t her scene. It certainly didn’t look like the place a quiet, withdrawn brunette would be, _but_ Chastity had the same shtick, and she was one of the more consistently popular entertainers. And of course, Lisa should be doing her best to put Amy at ease. I double-checked to make sure that my friend was actually doing her job.

 

Lisa and Amy were engaging in a tug of war over who got to finish the drink Amy had ordered and paid for. I _really_ hoped that was just how Amy liked to be flirted with. I mean, we had to have some standards, right? Sure, Club Lango employed underage prostitutes, but at least we weren’t the kind of place where you had to buy the employee’s food to keep them talking with you.

 

I caught Lisa’s eye and made a face so hideous that Rory did a double-take as he saw me out of the corner of his eye. Lisa just smiled and gave me a discreet thumbs-up. Then she went back to stealing sips out of the neon-pink glass Amy was holding. I sighed and turned away. Well, the worst that could happen was Amy leaving, which would still leave the person who was actually paying for all this behind for me and Lisa to devote attention to (and also Carlos, I supposed).

 

Victoria reappeared, sweat beading on her forehead. She sat down next to me, pressing my body against Rory’s. Hardly an unwelcome feeling. She grabbed one of the drinks on the table and drained half of it in a single swallow.

 

“Well, that was fun. But how do you girls do that, night after night? I feel like I could drink a camel under the table right now.” She reached out to Dean’s hand as she chattered and took it. I saw Amy look away. “By the way, baby, looks like we’ll be splitting a hundred dollars. Also,” she laughed before anyone had a chance to say anything, “you can have the invitation to dance here for a living if you want it.”

 

Dean snorted and declined. He said something, but the music was so loud I couldn’t make it out. Neither could anybody else, judging by their faces.

 

“The package you guys bought came with a private room,” I said. “Want to head up there? There’s some good soundproofing in it.” Because clients didn’t like their fragile masculinity threatened by hearing the girls use the same overblown compliments to describe the sexual prowess of the guys the next room over.

 

There was a wave of agreement all around. As amazing as getting seven people to agree on something was so quickly was, I knew the hardest part was yet to come. Getting out of the booth.

 

* * *

 

All five of us pounded away from the scene, leaving dust in our wake. Judas, Bentley and Angelica were all carrying either us or the money, and my bugs were telling me there wasn’t going to be any pursuit in time to matter. I almost couldn’t believe how smoothly the entire thing had gone. Grue dropping his sightless, soundless smoke over everything, Regent making the capes do pratfalls, and I had swarmed the muscle, all while Tattletale and Bitch and loaded the money up onto Bitch’s dogs. The E88 never knew what had hit them, and it seemed there weren’t any parahumans with the gun runners. The entire thing had gone off like clockwork.

 

I saw Judas, carrying Grue and Tattletale split off ahead of me. They were going to a spot we’d picked out, to change, wait for the dog to shrink, and meet back up with us. I’d be doing the same, and so would Regent and Bitch. In forty minutes, we should all be back home, deciding what we wanted for dinner.

 

We met back up at Lisa’s apartment. Hardly the most secure place, but there was a lack of realistic options until our mysterious patron came through with a replacement hideout. At least we didn’t meet anyone on the way up the stairs, and my bugs assured me there was no one with a glass pressed against the neighboring walls.

 

Lisa was the first of us to arrive, which was good, since she had the only set of keys to the apartment. By the time I arrived, right on Alec’s heels, everyone else had gotten there too. Rachel was practically inhaling some cake while Brian was transferring plastic bags of money from the duffel bag to the coffee table. He looked up as I walked in and shook his head.

 

“Can you believe the Nazi’s are so lazy they didn’t even bother to properly sort their cash? Look at this.” He waved a bag for emphasis. A bunch of bills slid from side to side inside it. I smiled at him and sat down next to him, wrapping my arm around his waist.

 

“You should file a complaint. ‘Had to spend a lot of time resorting loot after stealing it from a gang. One out of five stars.”

 

Brian smiled, white teeth shining against his dark skin, and kissed me on the cheek. Any further celebrations were cut off by Lisa coming over to join us. She swung the back pack she was carrying around and reached inside. Her hand came back holding something that looked like a ray gun from a 1930’s movie serial had been slathered with glue and tossed into a New Age crystal shop.

 

I looked at it and scratched my head. It looked like… ah crap, it was one of the tinkertech guns the E88 was buying, wasn’t it?  
  
“…what is that, Lisa?” Brian asked, staring at with a funny expression on his face.

 

“It’s a nice little bonus from the raid. I saw one of the dealers going for it instead of the money or his car, so I pistol-whipped him and took it.”

 

“It’s tinkertech? Tinkertech you don’t know what it does?”

 

Brian was staring at Lisa like she’d grown a second head, which was a distinct possibility for someone messing around with a Tinker’s stuff. Lisa shrugged defensively.

 

“Hey, if the goon thought this was better than the pistol in his pants, it should be worth a shot at grabbing. Anyways, give me a few minutes of peace and quiet, and I’ll be able to tell you everything about it worth knowing.”

 

Brian frowned at her, and then at the gun. I shared his concerns, but, since we had it, we might as well do something with it. But what? Brian preempted me, drumming his fingers on the table top as he spoke.

 

“I see two options here. One, we sell it to our patron for a nice bonus. Two, we keep it for ourselves.”

 

“Problem with number two,” Lisa said as she carefully put the gun down. “What does it do? Also, does it need reloading? I’ve heard that tinkertech can be really finicky, and I just about know how to change a lightbulb.” Finally, she was treating it with the respect it deserved.

 

I spoke up as I looked at the gun. “I don’t think it can be too hard to use. The Nazi’s were buying it, and they don’t have a Tinker with them. For that matter, they were buying a lot of other stuff too, way more than just the capes could use. If they’re trusting skinhead gangbangers with this stuff, it can’t be too complex.”

 

Brian and Lisa nodded, acknowledging my point. Alec chimed in, putting his feet up on the coffee table, a few feet away from the gun. Brian frowned, and swept his feet back off.

 

“How hard can it be to figure out. Point it as something and let ‘er rip.”

 

Brian glared at him, brows knotting.

 

“We are _not_ firing tinkertech guns inside Lisa’s apartment. We aren’t doing tinkertech _anything_ here, understand?”

 

Alec nodded, seeming worryingly unconcerned.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Yesh, the supervillain who’s concerned about the damage deposit.”

 

Brian and Alec started squabbling good naturedly when Lisa’s phone buzzed. I switched my attention over to her as she talked into it in a low voice. She saw me looking and gestured towards a pen and note pad sitting just out of reach. I tossed them to her and she started scribbling. The boy’s banter died down as they realized what she was doing, and when Lisa hung up all four of us were staring at her.

 

Lisa stared back at us for a minute, obviously relishing being the center of attention. Just as I was about to say something, she held the notepad up.

 

“Good news, boys and girls. That was the boss. We’ve got our new lair.”

 

There was a round of whoops and cheers. Finally. It had been too long since the ABB chased us out of the last one, and I’m sure Brian was more than ready to get Alec out of his hair and into a room of his own.

 

Lisa waved the notepad around, as she stood up.

 

“Shall we?”

 

We all stood up after her. I hadn’t seen much of the old place, and I was curious to see what our new base looked like. We trooped out of Brian’s apartment after her. I didn’t know what the new liar would look like, but it had to be more fitting for a group of supervillains planning their evil schemes than Brian’s spacious, well-lit apartment that he shared with his sister (who I hoped to either never see again, or to be wearing clothes when I did see her.)

 

Meeting Aisha had been generally embarrassing. I’d dashed out of the kitchen into Brian’s bedroom, leaving Brian naked and alone to face his younger sister. I’d thrown on some of Brian’s clothes while the sweet sounds of fraternal love came through the wall. I entered the main room to see the two of them talking loudly at each other. Not shouting, not quite yet, but it was close.

 

Brian’s sister, Aisha, turned on me with a gaze like an inferno. Whatever bonds of family loyalty were keeping her acting restrained towards her brother obviously didn’t apply to me. She let me have it with both barrels, something about being a big-boobed slut who was screwing her brother.

 

While all of that was true, I didn’t much like hearing it from a girl who could apply all but that last descriptor to herself. Long months of hearing worse from Emma let me keep a rein on my tongue though, and Brian had managed to get Aisha calmed down long enough for me to get my own clothes from the couch and leave. As I ducked back into Brian’s bedroom, I could feel her gaze burning a hole in the back of my neck.

 

Getting dressed had been easy enough, even if my clothes did need a wash. Going out the door to meet Brian and the little sister I barely even knew he had? A lot harder. I stepped back out into the living room, dressed as decently as I could after a night working at Club Lango.

 

It had been like stepping into a freezer wearing a bikini. Aisha had a very good glare on her, and let me have it with both barrels as soon as I entered her line of sight. I sat down at the counter with them, next to Brian but not close to him. I thought it would be best not to rub our relationship in her face, even if she wouldn’t thank me for it.

 

After another round of stilted introductions, Aisha started getting on my case. I couldn’t tell if the constant stream of questions laced with semi-veiled hostility were something she’d prepared while I was dressing, or if she was coming up with them on the fly.

 

Aisha was trying to be cutting, but, after Emma, she just didn’t have the skills or the knowledge to really wound me. If she’d known more about me? Yes, she could have scored some deep wounds on my emotional wellbeing. As it was, it meant as much to me as being cursed out by a wino for not giving him change.

 

Brian let her vent her spleen. It hurt, getting chewed out by my boyfriend’s sister while he just sat there, but I could understand why. Getting between us would be a no-win situation. Still, he could at least try to play peacemaker.

 

Aisha let slip quite a few things as she was tearing into me. The stuff she talked about were hardly state secrets, but they did help explain some things. For one, while I vaguely knew Brian had a sister, she had absolutely no idea he had a girlfriend.

 

It turned out the room that Alec and I had both dumping out stuff in was intended to be Aisha’s, once Brian bought some furniture for her. She wasn’t super pleased to find out her future bedroom was currently being used by, how did she put it? A cheap white floozy with more boobs than brains.

 

Brian’s rebuke for that washed over her like water, but I was finally getting fed enough. The trio had been worse than her, but I hadn’t just stayed put for them to deliver their barbs. But how? Just like she didn’t know enough about me to deliver any really devastating insults, I didn’t know enough about her to return fire. Also, as much as Brian obviously disliked his sister insulting his girlfriend, I bet that he would like the reverse even less.

 

Sometimes I wondered if I was in a bad spot of my life, now that I was considering how to verbally tear down a younger girl who was justifiably upset. Then I pushed those thoughts to the side. Aisha had started it, after all.

 

I said something about her brother finding a real woman who could satisfy him. Weird, somewhat hidden implications of incest aside, it was ridiculous to say that Aisha wasn’t a real woman. Okay, she was thirteen or so, so in a few years, she’d be a real woman. (I had to admit that I was kind of jealous that the same genetics that made Brian such a stud made Aisha such a babe. In some respects, she was hotter than me, and I had chemical assistance making me the woman I was today).

 

Finally, Brian intervened, asking Aisha about why she wasn’t in school. That brought me up short. I hadn’t really realized today was a school day. I hadn’t been to Winslow for a while, and Club Lango and the Undersiders didn’t really operate on the five day work week.

 

At any rate, that got the subject off of me and onto Aisha. I didn’t join in interrogating her, for obvious reasons, but it was nice to sit back and watch her squirm. Metaphorically, at least. In reality, she didn’t so much squirm as fire back at Brian, with a lot of dismissive stuff about how she wasn’t learning anything at school (and it was the school’s fault) and how hanging out with her friends or her wonderful, reasonable big brother was a lot better use of her time.

 

Brian didn’t buy it, and held her feet to the fire. Well, he tired at least. After a few minutes of that, Aisha threw her hands up in the air and stormed out of the room. I counted the seconds under my breath and hadn’t reached double digits before she came storming back out.

 

She’d found out that what was supposed to be her room was currently a dumping spot for two different people’s stuff. For some bizarre, unexplainable reason, that made her rather mad. At least she thought it was all my stuff, instead of realizing two people were using it as an expanded closet. That would have been tough to explain, unless Brian wanted to claim that Alec was his boyfriend.

 

And, as hot as getting to watch Brian fuck Alec sounded, any explanation about why Brian was letting a guy and his girlfriend store their stuff here would either be unconvincing, or treading way to close to the whole ‘actually the leader of a parahuman criminal gang’ thing.

 

As it turned out, that wasn’t a secret I had to keep. Brian had gone out on the balcony to call Aisha’s school. Almost before the glass door closed behind him, Aisha swung to me, her smile gaining several extra degrees of malice.

 

It turned out she knew Brian was Grue. He didn’t know she knew, but, once she figured that out, it was beyond easy for her to match everyone else she saw with him to their cape identity. Apparently she had me figured for Skitter as soon as she got over the first rush of anger at seeing me riding her brother’s cock.

 

I did my best to act like she was wrong or delusional. It didn’t work. Not because I gasped “How did you know?” or anything, but, well the logic was easy to follow and hard to deny. If she knew her brother was a supervillain, and knew that he had a teammate with large breasts and long black hair, when a girl with long black hair and big breasts showed up at his apartment, it was impossible to convincingly deny.

 

I still tried, and made noises about how any hypothetical supervillain wouldn’t like her identity exposed, but we both knew any threats I made were hollow. Even if I was actually up for hurting a girl younger than me for knowing too much, a choice for Brian between me and his sister was no choice at all.

 

I realized I was in the unenviable situation of having to trust the goodwill and closed lips of someone who didn’t seem to have much of either. Any further attempts to either persuade Aisha she was mistaken, or to ensure she didn’t take about it with others, were stopped when Brian came back in.

 

He would be hand delivering Aisha over to her school. The way he phrased it (and glared at Aisha) made me think of someone handing over a briefcase that was handcuffed to their wrist. While Brian probably wouldn’t have to go that far with Aisha, I still thought there were decent enough odds of her managing to not stay at school for the rest of the day.

 

As Brian escorted a grumbling, sullen Aisha out of his apartment, he asked me to lock up. I nodded, and resisted the urge to give a cheery wave goodbye to Aisha as she stood by the door, her face like a thundercloud.

 

After they left, I quickly cleaned up the mess I’d made cooking for the two of us. Brian’s food was still on his plate, half-eaten. It was a pity he (we) hadn’t finished, but there was nothing for it. I boxed the food, put the dishes in the dishwasher, and turned off the lights.

 

By the time I trotting down the stairs, I realized I hadn’t actually cum, which marked a first for my sex life with Brian. Oh well, it’s not like I was still horny anyways. Having an outraged sibling burst in on you can kind of kill the mood.

 

I also realized I hadn’t thought to shower before locking the front door behind me. And I hadn’t showered last night after coming here from the Palanquin. All I wanted was to go back to Lisa’s place, shower and change. And after that, a day of planning how we were going to get away with robbing murderous Nazi’s and their suppliers.

 

And hopefully, the next time I saw Aisha Laborn, I wouldn’t be naked and riding her brother’s cock.

 

Lord. A couple days later and my face still turned red thinking about that. I was just glad Alec and Lisa didn’t know. They’d both use it to lord over me, Lisa somewhat more subtly than Alec. At least it shouldn’t come up again anytime soon.

 

I hoped it wouldn’t come up soon.

 

I was praying it wouldn’t come up soon.

 

* * *

The superheroes followed Lisa and me up the stairs. Our group was so large that when I was at the head of the staircase, Carlos was still at the bottom. Luckily Club Lango did have a room big enough to accommodate us all, though I doubted the guys would have been too broken up over having to squeeze in next to me. Rory, after all, had ‘accidently’ gotten a nice long, lingering squeeze of my breast as we were leaving the floor.

 

We all piled in through the door to the biggest private party room Club Lango had to offer. It was as far removed from the broom closet sized rooms I usually took clients too as night was from day. More than big enough for all of us, with two beds and a carpet so soft you could barely tell the difference. The entire ceiling was a giant mirror, which, if all the lights were turned on, was rather blinding.

 

It was quite the place, though I expected that the only chance I’d have to look at the décor was if I was being taken doggy style or cowgirl. Maybe not even that if they dug the blindfolds out of the dressers pushed against the walls.

 

I wobbled and almost fell back as my high heels sank into the thick carpet. Carlos stopped me, his large hand warm against my bare back. As I got my balance, his hand slid down lower, to grab my ass. What was with my butt and groping today? I knew it wasn’t half as good as my boobs, but it seemed people had been all over my rear ever since I got here.

 

As soon as the door shut behind me, Carlos and Rory were on me like bees on sugar. I barely had time to squeal before my lips were pressed against Rory’s. I kissed back, as Carlos circled around me. He took a single step forward and I was trapped in between two buff, attractive guys. Hardly the worst spot I’d ever been in.

 

Victoria and Dean were off in their own corner, Victoria perched on his lap and Dean kneading her ass. Damn, they weren’t waiting for anything before they started fucking, were they. The last set, Lisa and Amy were being a lot less aggressive than the rest of the set. I could overhear Lisa offering a massage to Amy, who was looking away with her arms crossed. Well, hopefully Lisa could handle her on her own. I was going to have my work cut out for me anyways.

 

I ran my hands down Rory’s body, and reached behind me. Once I reached their crotches I practically purred. I had already felt their erections pressing against me, but getting a hands-on experience was so much better. They were both hot and hard, and I was sure they would both feel good in me. And if Victoria would let her boytoy in on the fun, it would be even better. It had been a long time since I’d been made airtight.

 

“Anybody else want some drinks?” Lisa asked, opening up the minibar humming in a corner. Most of shook our heads, except for Amy.

 

I watched out of the corner of my eye as Lisa made some bubbly drink for both of them. Well, if that was the only way to get Panacea relaxed enough to enjoy herself, that was what Lisa had to do. I turned my attention back to my own job. And such a hard, strenuous job it was, at least if I did it right.

 

Carlos and Rory were tugging at my clothes, as if they needed much excuse to fall off my body. I turned my head and kissed the birthday boy, practically sucking his tonsils out as we necked. All three of us staggered towards a bed, legs knocking against each other as we moved. I sat down on the red bedspread, the boys on either side of me.

 

I raised my arms as Carlos pulled my shirt off, letting the girls breathe free. He whistled as I was revealed, staring down at my breasts.

 

“Christ, you aren’t using a bit of padding, are you?”

 

“Nope!” I said, smiling as I wiggled my shoulders. “I’m all natural.” Assuming Nurture’s tinkertech drugs were natural, of course. “You can suck on them if you want. There’s a nice creamy treat inside them for good boys.” I winked at him and licked my lips. “Or boys who are bad enough.”

 

Carlos’s smile grew pretty sharp, and I held my breasts up for inspection. Both he and Rory dived in. I moaned, feeling fingers, lips and tongues all over my huge chest. My nipples quickly grew hard, standing up in between the metal nubs of my piercings. I leaned back, giving the boys as much access as I could.

 

I looked around the room, eager for some visual stimulation to go with my physical sensations. Amy was sitting in Lisa’s lap, her shirt unbuttoned. They were hesitantly kissing, and taking a sip from their drinks between each kiss. I wondered if Amy would stay this wound-up all night, or if she’d become a wild slut once she got horny enough.

 

Or if she’d go beyond being a wild slut, and act like her sister. Victoria’s shirt and bra were in two different corners of the room, and she was humping Dean’s leg like a bitch in heat. They were running their hands up and down each other’s body and I wasn’t certain if they even remembered other people were in the room with them.

 

My attention was drawn back to myself as I felt my breasts stir. The boys suckling at my teats were about to get a milky treat. I moaned, feeling the milk get sucked out of me. Carlos jerked his head back in surprise, specks of white on his lips as he realized I was lactating. I giggled and Rory glanced at him as he continued to suck at my other breast.

 

After a moment, Carlos turned back to my breast, and I sighed in lustful happiness as I felt a pair of lips at my nipples again. He then upped the ante by sliding his hand down my bare belly into my shorts. I’d left the top button on them strategically undone, showing a small v of flesh, and now he was taking advantage of that. I spread my legs as far as they could go to give him better access.

 

I pressed my hips against Carlos’s hand as best I could, feeling his warm fingers slid down my skin and onto my pussy. I was already aroused, so he had a damp wonderland to explore as his fingers teased my lower lips or brushed over my clit. Damn, he was good at this. Did the Wards provide erotic training as part of their public service package?

 

Sadly, it seemed neither Carlos or Rory were intent on draining my tits dry. They both came up for air, when I could tell I still had a lot more milk left inside of me. Oh well, maybe some of the other people in the room would like a turn later. Or maybe I’d have to resign myself to the hand pump I’d bought. (I lived in dreadful anticipation of coming to work one day to find that Lewy had bought a full-fledged milking harness out of a porn video, and that my shift would be spent in a highly visible alcove, on all fours feeling pumps suck at my breasts while people watched. The ratio of dread to anticipation could be determined by the fact that I had come up with that scenario all by myself, without anyone else even _mentioning_ the word pumps to me).

 

I was left to quickly recover as Rory and Carlos started undressing. I glanced over at the dream team of Victoria and Dean, and saw that they were moving even faster than me and my boys. Victoria was flat on her back, her boobs bouncing everywhere as her boyfriend railed her. She was _very_ vocal in her encouragement, squealing and urging him to ‘fuck my slutty pussy until it’s molded around your cock, you hung stud’.

 

I glanced over at Amy. She was pointedly looking away even as Lisa slid her hands under her skirt. I couldn’t blame her. Listening to that sort of thing would have to give you a complex. Hopefully Lisa being a supervillain wouldn’t give her a different one.

 

My gaze was irresistibly drawn back to Rory and Carlos as they finished disrobing. And I’d thought Rory was muscular. Carlos had the kind of physique I’d only previously seen in Brian. Well-developed, but not the point of absurdity or where it would get in the way of his movements. I unconsciously licked my lips looking at the two beefcakes in front of me, and then did it again, but slower. _Hold me close, big daddy_.

 

I raised my legs and slid my shorts and panties down off of me. My heels were already on the floor, and that left me naked except for the choker around my neck.  I smiled at the boys and ran my fingers down their chests, feeling the hard muscle underneath their warm skin. Oh, I was going to enjoy this.

 

“How do you boys want to do this? One of you has my pussy and the other stuffs my mouth? Another go between my tits? I’m all yours for the night, boys, and there’s nothing I won’t do.”

 

They glanced at each other and smiled. Rory’s hand landed on my shoulder and then started sliding down my back. Carlos grabbed my other shoulder and ran _his_ hand down my front, sliding over my breast.

 

“Oh, I think we can figure something out. Carlos? It’s your birthday. You get first pick.”

 

Carlos grinned at him and looked at me. I looked back as innocently as I could as I jacked off him and Rory. He ran his gaze down my body and I spread my legs a bit farther apart, letting him get a nice long look at my clean-shaven pussy. And if he went for a closer look, I knew that he would find small beads of arousal.

 

“I- I want to have your pussy.” There were faint spots of red on his cheeks. He was only now getting embarrassed?

 

“Sure thing, babe,” I said, cozying up to him.

 

I slid up and down Carlos’s body, rubbing my boobs against him. I’d turned away from Rory so he could get the full benefit of me shaking my ass at him. My rear wasn’t as nice as my boobs, but I knew it still looked good. Rory confirmed that by grabbing my ass, his fingers sinking in as much as they could into my rear. I had a sneaking suspicion about how he was going to end up using me.

 

I took one last look around the room as four strong arms wrapped around me. This was going to be my last chance to check in on my friend and see a superheroine getting fucked, and I wanted to make the most of it.

 

Lisa had finally gotten Amy to unwind, through copious amounts of alcohol, it seemed. The brunette was giggling and pawing at Lisa, who was slipping Amy’s bra off her shoulders. I shot my friend a smile as she kneeled a bit to start paying proper attention to Panacea’s titties. I also saw a double-ended dildo lying on the bed next to them, and figured I knew how they’d be spending their time together.

 

Victoria and Dean? Well, they were still fucking, and I wondered if earplugs were as much a part of Dean’s sex list as condoms were. She was _loud_ , verbose and explicit. I could barely believe that they had sex at their homes, since their parents would have to know (in exacting detail) whenever they had sex.

 

They’d switched positions, with Victoria riding Dean reverse cowgirl. He was holding onto her arms, making her spine arc. It also meant her boobs were bouncing and everyone in the room could get an eyeful of them. They were good breasts, really. I would have been quite happy to play with them and run my fingers over those pointing nipples. And who knows? I might still get the chance tonight.

 

My thoughts on the matter ended as Rory slid in behind me. I pushed back against him, feeling his iron rod pressing against me rear. Carlos took a step forward, and I felt another rod pressing against my lower stomach. I grinned. This was going to be good. They picked me up, and I wrapped my arms around Carlos’s shoulders. And now for the descent.

 

I was sandwiched in between Rory and Carlos. Rory had his cock deep in my ass while Carlos claimed my pussy. It felt so good. Their big cocks were stretching me and filling me up as I was pressed between the two hot studs. The Wards must have a hell of a workout program, since Carlos was slamming into me like a man possessed. With every thrust, it felt like he was slamming my pussy into my lungs.

 

Somehow, using flexibility I didn’t even know I’d had, Carlos had gotten my legs up over his shoulders. My legs were on either side of my tits, pressing them together from the sides as Carlos’s defined chest pressed against them from the front.

 

My head was thrown back against Rory’s shoulder, staring up at my reflection in the ceiling mirror. It provided quite the view. A busty girl, trapped between two hot studs. She was obviously a slut who loved taking two dicks at once.

 

I was so lost in lust it took me a few minutes to remember who was holding onto my rear. Carlos, it had to be Carlos. He wasn’t doing anything more than squeezing me, moving me up and down his and Rory’s cocks. A pity, since a good groping or spanking could be fun too. But, I supposed he didn’t really have the room to work, with Rory so close behind me.

 

I wasn’t used to being quite so passive during sex. Usually I could grind my hips against my partner(s) or work my tongue along their cock or inside their pussy. But the position I was in meant I couldn’t do much more than squeeze down and give out some of my best dirty talk.

 

“Come on, boys, can’t you fuck me harder? I want those _big_ , _hard_ cocks of yours slamming in and out of me. Don’t you want to make sure I never forget what you studs are doing to me? Come on and fuck me!”

 

“Okay, I think that’s quite enough,” Rory said in an amused tone.

 

He reached around me and slid two fingers into my mouth. I opened wide, giving him room to do whatever it was he was planning to do. And if I didn’t like it, well, his fingers were in my mouth. That gave me options.

 

Rory grabbed my tongue and tugged it out of my mouth. So he preferred silence when fucking. Fair enough. Carlos had a small grin on his face as I moaned, feeling Rory pull at my tongue. It would be even better if I had a dick or a pussy in front of me, but at least I could indulge my oral fetish a bit this way.

 

Rory played with my tongue for a few minutes, before letting it slip back inside my mouth. I craned my head to wink at him.

 

“Next time, how about you give me something meatier?”

 

He chuckled, and patted my cheek.

 

“Don’t worry. Me and Carlos will give you a nice creamy treat before the night’s out.”

 

I lasciviously licked my lips.

 

“I’m looking forward to it.”

 

I let my head fall back against his shoulder, and concentrated on the feelings of getting double teamed. It felt good, two thick dicks filling my pussy and ass. And my boobs were getting some stimulation, pressed against Carlos’s chest. I hoped they were feeling as good as I was, and clamped down, to give them a little bit extra. I heard Carlos growl in satisfaction.

 

I felt an orgasm coming on. I decided to make it sound like a big one, to make Rory and Carlos feel more confident in their lovemaking abilities. I thrashed my head from side to side, groaning and moaning as I squeezed down around the two thick cocks inside me.

 

My orgasm washed over me. It wasn’t the biggest or best orgasm I’d ever had, but I’d found that having two cocks (or more) in you made for a pretty satisfying climax all on their own. I could feel my arousal washing out of my pussy as it tightened down around Carlos’s cock. My legs, still propped up on his shoulders twitched and my inner thighs were oh so sensitive.

 

And while I was enjoying my orgasm, the boys didn’t stop. They kept on fucking me, picking me and lowering me down on their hot, thick cocks. It felt so good, and I was sure I’d get at least one more orgasm out of them before they came, which would probably be good for another orgasm all on its own.

 

“Hey, Rory,” Carlos grunted, sweat beading on his forehead.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Ready to switch?”

 

“Okay, sure. Down you go.”

 

The last part was directed to me. The two of them swung me to the side, dropping me on the bed. It felt bad, their cocks leaving me empty, and I whined as I waited for them to switch.

 

As it happened, I was the one who ended up switching. The two of them turned me around while they stayed in place. In less than a minute, I was back where I wanted to be, impaled on two cocks. I was glad that Rory felt just as good inside my pussy as my ass, and vice versa for Carlos.

 

I leaned forward to kiss Rory, tongue pressing against his lips. He kissed back, his hand moving up from my thigh to the back of my head to hold me close. My eyes opened wide as he bit down on my lip. The shock of pain was just enough to make a counterpoint to the pleasure still filling my body. The same principal as getting spanked, or feeling someone lightly tugging on my breasts. Just enough sour to make the sweet come through stronger.

 

I rode their cocks in silence for a minute, my eyes closed and reveling in the feeling of two big cocks stretching my lower holes. Finally, I broke the silence (in as much as there could be any silence with Victoria still going strong nearby).

 

“So, boys, now that you’ve had both, which do you like more?”

 

I saw Rory’s face form a frown as he considered it, and I heard Carlos hum in thought.

 

“I-“

 

“Def-“

 

I laughed as they both spoke at the same time. I caught one half of some non-verbal communication before Carlos spoke up again.

 

“I like your pussy more. Just, the way you’re so wet, and that you can just clench down on me so much tighter there than in your ass.” I squeezed down as hard as I could back there. “Yeah, like that. Your pussy gets my vote.”

 

I smiled at Rory as a stranger heaped compliments on my sexual prowress.

 

“How about you, Rory-kins?”

 

There was a frozen minute of silence before all three of us started laughing. They actually stopped fucking me, letting me rest on their laps (and their cocks) as Rory almost fell backwards as he laughed.

 

“Man. Oh man. Don’t ever call me that again, Tawnee. I’m going to have enough trouble getting this bastard,” he reached past me to slap Carlos’s shoulder, “to not tell everyone at work. Now, ass or pussy?” He stroked his chin, still smiling. “Yeah, I’d go with your pussy too. They’re both good, and I know how sweet your mouth is, but I have to say your pussy is the best of the three.”

 

“Ah, how sweet of you two. Sadly, mu pussy has a one cock limit, so Carlos will just have to satisfy himself with my ass, or my mouth or my tits or my hands or my…” I trailed off, chuckling.

 

“I actually wouldn’t mind trying those out later,” Carlos said thoughtfully.

 

“Trust me, man, they’re great. She and an older friend-“

 

“Candy,” I interjected.

 

“Candy came to a party some friends had, and _wow_ , she was great no matter which way you had her,” Rory said.

 

I nodded, remembering my first gangbang. Rory had fucked me a lot that day, and so had every other frat boy in the house. Cindy insisted on a long, long shower for me before she let me get back into her car. You’d think a stripper (prostitute) would be more accepting of cum stains. And I’d be visiting Club Lango’s showers tonight (or next morning, maybe) as well. Probably joined by Victoria, Lisa, Dean… man, everyone in this room would probably want a shower. At least the club rules meant it wouldn’t turn into a shower orgy, as fun as that sounded.

 

I took my mind off future sex and focused on the sex I was having here and now. Rory in my pussy and Carlos in my ass felt just as good as Rory in my ass and Carlos in my pussy. I shook my hips, swaying from side to side enough to look sexy and feel good, but not far enough to fall out of their grasps.

 

As the two superheroes continued to fuck me, I let my head bounce around, getting a nice long look around the room. It was nice to see how my friend, and what the woman who’d threatened to kill me, were being fucked.

 

Lisa had gotten that double-ended dildo into Amy, and the two of them were frantically kissing as they both worked to get that length of rubber going in and out of them. I was pretty surprised to see that Amy was on top of Lisa. I had her pegged for someone who would need to be coaxed through sex every step of the way. But, if it worked for the two of them, then it worked. Amy had her eyes closed as Lisa sucked on her nipples and grabbed her ass. I hoped that she would be considerate enough to return the pleasure to Lisa soon.

 

I also hoped neither of them were so drunk as to throw up on the other.

 

On the other end of the bed Lisa and Amy were on, Dean and Victoria were just resting. They must have cum, and were building up wind for a second go-around. I wondered if Glory Girl did anal? They had to have tried it at least once, with the way she loved sex so much.

 

I would have loved to be the one doing that. Getting one of the most famous superheroines on the East Coast under me, shoving some thick dildo into her rear, listening to her squeals of surprise and outrage gradually turn into slutty moans as she realized how much she loved getting fucked in the ass…

 

I made a mental note to buy a Glory Girl costume from a store. Lisa could pass for her, and I was sure she’d have some fantasies I could help her live out in exchange. Maybe something involving Alexandria? Internet rumor said she looked vaguely like me under her costume, and she was supposed to have a Thinker rating. And I knew how much Lisa loved tearing down anyone who said they were smarter than her. Yeah, if I said I’d bring along a paddle for her to use, I was sure I could get Lisa to agree to the Glory Girl idea.

 

I felt a rush as my plans came to me, and leaned forward to kiss Rory again. I wished I could also kiss Carlos, but neither of us were flexible enough to make that work as he continued to pound my ass. The best I could do was reach behind me and grab one of his hands. It was an oddly sweet gesture, to hold a stranger’s hand as he and his friend double-teamed you for money, but I still took a certain emotional pleasure out of it.

 

The fucking continued for another good fifteen minutes. I was astounded that they had the endurance to keep going for that long with cumming or flagging, but Rory and Carlos kept on pounding my body, filling up my pussy and ass with the occasional hand running across my nipples or clit. I managed to get two more orgasms before they stopped.

 

As their thrusts slowed down inside me, I wondered what was next. I knew the signs if a man was about to cum inside of me, and it was obvious they weren’t. So what were they going to do instead? Switch again? Would one of them take me up on my offer to let them use my tits or mouth? Or would they _really_ switch, and bring in one of the other hot, horny teens around the room? I wouldn’t say no to eating out Glory Girl as her sister used a strap-on on me.

 

Rory and Carlos slid to a stop inside me. I whined, though I would have whined more if they had actually taken their dicks out of me. While the pleasure of getting creampied (and whatever the equivalent for my ass was) couldn’t compare to what the guy had to feel, it still felt nice to get filled up with cum.

 

“Why? Don’t you guys want to fill me up with your hot, sticky loads?” I asked, wiggling my hips from side to side.

 

“Yes, but we’ve got something special planned for you. Don’t want that cum to go to waste in-.”

 

“Carlos.”

 

“Yeah, um, oops.” Carlos sounded embarrassed, and I wondered what they were planning. Filling up a glass and having me and Lisa drink out of it? It wouldn’t be the first time I’d been asked to lick semen off of something.

 

I thought about asking for clarification, but decided not to. They probably wouldn’t explain, and I’d be finding out soon enough anyways. Instead, I just sat there, impaled on their dicks and waiting for them to start thrusting again. I gave Rory my best needy look; wide eyes, pouting lips, the works. Anything I could to get them to start fucking me again.

 

While I waited for the boys to get ready again, I looked over at the two couples fucking. I needed something to keep my juices flowing, and watching blondes get railed was the ticket. I almost burst out laughing at what I saw.

 

Dean must have gotten it back up, and had gotten up. He was standing upright, fucking Victoria. Her long legs were wrapped around his waist, and she had to be using her flight powers to help keep herself on his dick. After all, there was no way _anybody_ could ever be hard enough to keep someone as big as her in the air just using their dick. Since she _was_ , with Dean’s hands busy kneading her tits, I was sure my logic checked out. And when Dean started walking around the room, with Glory Girl still impaled on his cock and loving it, I felt something wash over my mind.

 

It had to be her emotional aura, I realized. It was hard to distinguish from the lust I was already feeling, but the wave of raw, sharp-edged need that filled me had to be part of the famous awe aura Glory Girl could make. I hadn’t realized she could do emotions other than awe, but I wasn’t complaining. Especially because it got Rory and Carlos back into gear.

 

The two of them started fucking me again, making me bounce up and down on their cocks as they split me in two. My attention was somewhat drawn away from them as Dean came into my field of view, Victoria still rocking on top of his cock. That was a position I’d never expected to see in real life, and the one time I’d seen it in fiction was when I’d walked in on Alec having some ‘special time’ with his collection of animated porn.

 

The two of them stopped midway between me and my lovers, and Lisa and Amy. All five of us were getting the benefit of Glory Girl’s aura, and I could feel Rory and Carlos fucking me even harder than before.

 

Looking over at the lesbian scene, the same was happening to them. Amy had turned Lisa around so the healer could watch the rest of the room. I wondered which five of us she was most into? There was certainly something for everyone on display. As I watched her watching us, I noticed that Amy was staring almost constantly at Victoria and Dean. So she had a crush or something on her sister’s boyfriend? How soap operaish.

 

Lisa, on the other hand, wasn’t looking at much of anything. Her face was buried in the bed sheets as Amy just fucking pounded her into the ground. I could hear the wet slap of flesh even over Victoria’s screams of ecstasy and myself getting pounded. I smiled to myself. If Amy didn’t heal up Lisa before she left, my friend was going to be walking funny tomorrow.

 

We had ended up on one of the beds, Rory lying on it, me on top of him, and Carlos on top of me. It meant they had easy access to my body, since they didn’t have to worry about holding me up. And it meant I could brace myself on the bed to grind against their dicks more effectively, making us all feel good.

 

The boys fucking me made me feel better and better, rising from the low level of arousal that was natural when my body was played with. I closed my eyes and did a whole-body shiver, feeling them reaching deep inside me. Their hands were playing with the rest of my body, pinching and stroking and making me feel good enough I was sure I could cum from just that, even without their thick dicks inside me. And since they _were_ inside me, that just meant my orgasm would be that much better.

 

“Come on, Deanny, I want you to feel good too.”

 

Victoria’s voice cut through the haze of lust in my brain like a hot knife through butter.

 

“I am, baby. Believe me, I am.”

 

“Yeah right. You haven’t even cum once yet. Come on, isn’t my _tight_ , _wet_ , pussy good enough for you?”

 

Something about the way Victoria said that made me pay attention. For one thing, it wasn’t just another repetition on how hard she was being fucked and how good it felt. For another… I’d thought Dean had already cum. If he hadn’t, and Rory and Carlos hadn’t, were they all planning the same thing? Almost certainly. Oh boy, what a treat to look forward to.

 

As I watched, Dean leaned forward to whisper something in Victoria’s ear. An interesting series of expressions played across her face. First there was incomprehension, followed by shock, followed by a sinister interest. _Oh boy_ , what a treat to look forward to.

 

I stifled a moan of disappointment as Rory and Carlos pulled their cocks out of me. It was still feeling good, damnit, even half a dozen orgasms later. My legs were like jelly, and I fell onto the floor as the boys let go of me. They both made a sound of alarm, and helped me up onto my feet. As I leaned against them, I got a good look at what being fucked so hard had done to me.

 

My crotch was a _mess_. Arousal was splattered all over it, almost up to my belly button. And for my legs? Completely shiny and sticky from all the arousal that had been forced out of my pussy by Carlos and Rory’s cocks. I drew a shaking finger along my inner thigh, feeling the muscles spasming underneath my skin. It sent a slight shock of pleasure through me, and I briefly considered running my finger up a bit higher, and letting the boys watch me masturbate myself to an orgasm.

 

No; it sounded nice, but no. Right now was time to focus on the men who were paying for my attention. I smiled at both of them, feeling a surge of lust as I looked at their naked, fit bodies.

 

“What now, boys? Want to try me in a new position?”

 

Rory’s smile grew from a slightly amused half-smile to a full-fledged grin as Carlos chuckled.

 

“You read my mind. Why don’t you go say hi to Victoria first, though.”

 

I felt a sharp grin flash across my face.

 

“Interested in some girl on girl, huh? Sure thing, if she’s up for it.”

 

I took a step towards Dean and Victoria, and almost fell on my face. Carlos caught me before I went all the way. Wow, them fucking me had taken more out of me than I’d thought. Carlos drew me back upwards as Rory stifled a laugh. I glared at him and kissed Carlos on the cheek.

 

I rested in his embrace while I gathered my strength. His hands wandered all over my body, though they kept on coming back to my breasts. I supposed he’d never seen a woman with such a large chest before. Either that, or he really liked nipple piercings. He kept on lightly tugging on the bars until I started squirming in his grasp. As I felt even more arousal leaking out of my slit, I decided it was time to get out of reach and go makeout with Glory Girl or whatever they had planned.

 

This time, I was actually steady enough on my feet to cross the distance. As I covered the few yards separating us, I saw Dean look up from Victoria’s chest and glance at me. I shot him a quick smile, and he nodded back. Victoria let her head bounce back to see me and shot me a matching, upside down smile.

 

I got to them and leaned against Victoria’s back. My arms went around her hips, pressing against her and Dean. I considered getting some indirect payback by groping her in exchange for Carlos doing the same to me, but decided not to. A punch from Glory Girl would send me through the wall like a Loony Tunes character, but without the immunity to meaningful damage Bugs Bunny had.

 

I contented myself with just getting a nice firm grip on her outer thigh. She was beautifully tanned and toned, and, while Dean was a looker himself, there was no problem deciding which half of the couple was hotter.

 

I shook my head to stop myself from drooling on her, and smiled at both of them.

 

“Thing One and Thing Two,” I jerked my head back at Rory and Carlos, “have some super-secret special thing planned. You up for it, Victoria?”

 

“Is it,” she glanced at Dean, “what you told me about?” He nodded, still gently pulling her up and down on his dick. “Yeah, sure, I’m game.”

 

She literally flew off Dean’s cock, and landed with graceful ease in front of Rory and Carlos. I shook my head and caught Dean’s eye. He just smiled, and I wondered what else she used her powers for in the bedroom.

 

I glanced over at the final pair. Amy and Lisa were still going strong, and they were both watching the rest of us as they fucked in a rather unlikely position where they were both on all fours with Amy above Lisa. It was only possible for them to fuck each other with a dildo, and I internally shuddered at the thought of trying that position with a real cock.

 

Victoria was already on her knees when I rejoined her. I knelt down beside her, feeling my legs quiver as I took my weight off my feet. I squeaked as Victoria pulled me in for a kiss. It was over soon, almost before I had time to understand what was happening, and certainly before I had time to see if she’d open her mouth for me.

 

She pulled back, eyes smiling as her hands ran down my body. Amazingly, her hands actually stayed at my sides, instead of going for my tits like most people. Maybe she didn’t want to dwell on someone having a better rack than her? (Even though in every other physical aspect she was hotter than me.)

 

Dean joined Rory and Carlos and started stroking his cock along with them (not in sync, though. That would just be creepy.) I knew what was coming. A three guy, two girl bukkake. I pressed my head against Victoria. Glory Girl and Skitter, cheek to cheek and acting like sluts waiting for a load of cum to share. What a world we lived in.

 

Both of us stared up at the men in front of us as they masturbated. It did not take long at all for them three of them to reach their limits. Dean came first, thick jets of cum shooting out of his penis. His semen mostly landed on Victoria, but some of it splattered on me. Victoria giggled as her boyfriend came on her as five other people, two of them strangers, watched them. I glanced downwards, and was surprised to see that she didn’t have a death grip on her knees. Maybe she wasn’t as embarrassed as I thought she was.

 

Dean dumped a sizeable load on her. I couldn’t tell exactly how much, since Dean had aimed at Victoria’s open mouth, but it was close to a one-man bukkake. The sides of her jaw had long lines of cum hanging down. As I watched, one of them snapped and fell, landing on her perfect breasts. Somehow, her makeup stayed perfect under the barrage of semen, lipstick and eyeliner and all that staying where they were supposed to. I wondered what kind of brand she used. When _I_ got facialed, my makeup started running like it was in a marathon.

 

Rory came soon after. He aimed for me, his cock just a few inches from my face. I’d taken too much cum to the face to gasp at a new load landing on me. I just smiled as I felt the hot, thick, sticky load hit my skin. He had been saving up a lot of cum, maybe even since I’d last seen him. He flat out covered the lower half of my face, from my jaw almost to my eyes. And since my face was upturned, and his cum was so thick, it stayed there, instead of running down to drop on my breasts. I kept my hands at my sides, waiting for the final load. Then I could rub it over my face, catching every spot they’d missed. And then lick it up before it got cold, of course.

 

Carlos came like a fire hose. Both Victoria and I ended up completely covered in cum. I had to shut my eyes to stop cum from getting into them, and then I felt even more landing on my eyelids. Some trickled in between my lips, and I tasted Carlos’s semen. It was salty and thick. I could feel cum pooling on my forehead, and more splattering on my shoulders and breasts. Before my eyes were glued closed, I could see the same happening to Victoria.

 

Christ, was this guy always like this, or had he been saving up for the past month? I didn’t know which option was scarier. I held Victoria’s hand as we were bukkaked by three guys. She squeezed back, and I felt her lustful aura redouble. If she was hoping to get the boys back up after that display, she was in for some disappointment. I was sure we’d have at least half an hour to go before any of them got hard again, no matter how sexy we were.

 

That thought logically led to another, and I pulled my head slightly away from Victoria. I could feel cum sticking to our cheeks, and could picture the lines of cum connecting us. I repositioned myself, so I was kneeling in front of Victoria, facing her. I still couldn’t see, but it wasn’t that hard to kiss Victoria, especially with the bugs providing a rough outline of everyone in the room from the crevices they were watching from.

 

This time, our kiss lasted a lot longer. Our tongues pressed against each other, and I let her win. She invaded my mouth, her tongue snapping up the small amount of cum in my mouth that I hadn’t already swallowed. We clung to each other, hands at the small of each other’s back as we made out. I bet we looked hot, and I hoped Lisa and Amy, as the only people still fucking, appreciated the view.

 

We finally broke for air, both still blind. That wasn’t going to last for long. As I leaned in to lick cum off Victoria’s cheek, she put a hand on my chest in a stopping motion. What now? Surely she didn’t expect to just clean off with a towel or something. That would be a massive letdown after what we’d done so far.

 

I opened my mouth to ask, but was drowned out by Amy reaching orgasm. And I’d thought her sister was loud. I thought someone was being murdered before I realized who it was screaming. I could hear Amy taking a deep breath, before screaming out in pleasure again. This time, thankfully, she was a bit quieter.

 

Either Lisa was a lot better lover than I’d ever experienced, or Amy was _very_ pent up. Maybe I should see if I could get her to scream that loud later.

 

“Wow,” Victoria said, chuckling. “I guess Ames has never masturbated when anyone else is in the house.”

 

She sounded kind of embarrassed, over finding how vocal her sister could be, I supposed. Still, I didn’t think she had too much room to comment, given how loud she had been with Dean. She also sounded gooey, cum sticking to her lips as they opened and closed.

 

“Anyways,” I could picture her shaking her head to bring her back to the task at hand, “don’t swallow the cum, okay?”

 

“Okay…” I trailed off, not sure where she was going. Snowballing maybe?

 

“And once we’re clean, go visit your friend, all right? Let the boys see you two swap their cum, maybe have some spill out onto her face, that sort of thing.”

 

“I fully support that idea,” Carlos said, a note of eager anticipation in his voice.

 

I rolled my closed eyes. I bet he did. And ditto for the other guys. Still, they were paying for the night, so what they wanted went.

 

This time, Victoria leaned in towards me. I felt her tongue press against my chin, slowly being drawn up to my lips. My own tongue darted out to meet her, and we pressed against each other briefly. Then we both separated, licking cum off each other.

 

My hands slid down Victoria’s back, going to her ass. It was a great ass. Nice and firm under my hands as I explored it. Her costume didn’t do it justice. She needed to wear something shorter or tighter if she wanted to show it off. Given what she’d done already tonight, it was obvious she loved her body and loved showing it off. It was beyond me why she didn’t wear something to better emphasize it. Maybe she didn’t like sitting on cold seats with bare legs. Or maybe New Wave wasn’t keen on sexualizing a teenager. One or the other.

 

I considered that as I collected tongueful after tongueful of cum off of Victoria’s face. As fun as it was, running my tongue over her soft, smooth skin, I quickly ran into a problem. My mouth was only so large, and there was a lot of cum on her face. I couldn’t hold it all in my mouth without swallowing it or letting it run down my chin. And there was still a lot of cum left on her face. I could see Victoria facing the same problem.

 

I pulled away from her, but ran into a problem. I couldn’t talk to her without swallowing the cum in my mouth, and she didn’t want me to do that. Luckily, Victoria understood our mutual problem. She frowned in thought, her features still obscured under a healthy layer of cum. Then she smiled.

 

She stood up, dragging me along with her. She turned over to the bed Lisa and Amy were on, and started towards them. I followed her, swinging my hips just as much as she was. I was sure the guys behind us appreciated that. I could hear them talking in low voices to each other, but couldn’t make out the words. Probably about how lucky they were to be part of an orgy with a bunch of hot, eager girls.

 

We climbed onto the bed with them. Lisa was grinning, while Amy looked really unsure and nervous. I let Victoria handle her sister, while I crawled over to Lisa. I was sure she knew what was about to happen, judging by the way she was licking her lips.

 

I slid into her lap, lower bodies pressed against each other. She was nice and warm, and I purred at the back of my throat. My hands slid right down to her butt, since I knew she was fine with me groping her. Her ass wasn’t as large or as muscular as Victoria’s, but it was still a _very_ nice ass. And as Tattletale, it was displayed nicely in her costume. Most capes didn’t go for spandex, since it highlighted every bit of their body, including the bits they didn’t want highlighted. But for someone like Tattletale, who had a great body? It did wonders.

 

Lisa opened her mouth as I got close, sticking her tongue out. I drew her in for a deep kiss, letting the cum of three different men flow out of my mouth and into hers. Lisa took all of it, until there was just a sticky white film left inside me. She kept her mouth open, displaying all of it. Her tongue rose and fell, making the semen shift around inside her mouth. Then Lisa closed her mouth.

 

She swallowed once, twice, three times before opening her mouth again for me to inspect. It was empty, or at least as empty as it could be without Lisa running her tongue over every inch of her mouth. I smiled and leaned in to kiss her on her cum-stained lips.

 

“You’re such a slut,” I whispered, a note of amusement in my voice.

 

“Yeah, and you’re the Virgin Mary,” she whispered back, eyes dancing in delight.

 

Both our voices sounded funny, since there was still cum sticking to the insides of our mouths and throats. And a lot of cum sticking to my face, of course. I hoped Lisa would help me take care of that.

 

I ran a single finger along my cheek, tracing a line through the cum still there. I held it out to Lisa, who slipped her mouth around my finger. I could feel her tongue running over my digit, getting every last drop of semen off of it as her tongue covered every inch of it. It was hot, and if she could do this to a finger, she must be able to work miracles on penises. Maybe I should talk to Brian, see how good of blowjobs she gave. I was always up for learning new skills.

 

I popped my finger out from between Lisa’s parted lips. I was about to gather up another load of cum, but Lisa preempted me. She went for the source, and leaned in. Her tongue pressed against my skin as she ran it up along my face. I smiled. So eager.

 

I sat still and let Lisa clean me off. While I waited, I amused myself by playing with her rear. Squeezing and groping, running my hands along it and under it, all sorts of things. I couldn’t reach her pussy from this position, but I could certainly make her squeak as I molested her.

 

As Lisa moved along my face, her squeaks became increasingly gummy. Just like me, she wasn’t swallowing the cum. She was saving it up in her mouth, to share with me once she had gotten it all. That was so sweet of her.

 

We kissed each other, our lips pressed against each other. I felt something slide into my mouth as we made out. I rolled the cum around in my mouth, savoring the taste and warmth of it. Then I shoved it back into Lisa’s mouth. We swapped cum for a while, hands roaming over each other’s bodies as we kissed and caressed.

 

Finally, we got myself cleaned off. I was spick and span, thought with some shiny traces as Lisa’s saliva dried on me. Hopefully I could grab a towel before round two started. I looked around at the other active pair. I’d seen bits and traces of them as Lisa and I played, but I was eager to get a good look. What could I say? Incest was hot. Correction, incest not involving me and Dad was hot.

 

Victoria had been trying to get Amy to swap cum with her like Lisa and I had been doing. She was hampered by the fact that her mouth was too full to talk, and also that her sister was a lesbian with zero interest in men. As Lisa and I played, I’d been more than half expecting Victoria to but in, cheeks bulging with another present to share with the two of us.

 

But to my surprise, somehow she’d gotten Amy to snowball with her. The two sisters were wrapped in each other’s arms, pressed against each other as Amy sat in her taller sister’s lap. They were locked in a kiss, arms holding each other tight. Their lips were so tight against each other not a bit of cum was escaping.

 

Victoria must have some pretty good puppy dog eyes to convince Amy to do that without speaking. I could learn a thing or two from her, since it took a lot more work to get Brian to agree to, just as some random hypothetical example, walk around his apartment shirtless and wearing tight leather pants. Maybe we could exchange tips later as we railed side by side by Dean and Rory.

 

But why wait? I tugged at Lisa’s hand, and we started crawling across the bed to join the Dallon’s. By the time we arrived, it was too late to share in the cum play. Victoria had just finished swallowing the last of it, her throat visibly working as she swallowed the shared semen of three boys. I didn’t think Amy had swallowed any of it, and had just passed it all back to her sister.

 

I raised an eyebrow as I watched Amy’s hands slide off of Victoria’s shoulders. It was an innocent enough gesture, but I could see signs of tension and longing anticipation in her body language. Amy’s hands slid down to her sister’s hips before stopping, with a visible effort of will. What on earth was that about?

 

Did she have the hots for her sister? I couldn’t blame her. I was attracted to Glory Girl, and she’d threatened to turn me into a red smear. And Amy _was_ adopted. I supposed it was possible, if not probable. At any rate, now wasn’t the time for questions about Panacea’s inclination to lesbian incest.

 

Amy and Victoria separated, Amy’s lips still parted. Victoria cupped her cheek and smiled. I was close enough to feel the wave of satisfaction and contentment from her aura as the two sisters enjoyed a quiet moment. Then Lisa coughed and the spell was broken.

 

Victoria turned to us as Amy scooted back off her lap. There was flush of victory on her face as she grinned at us.

 

“That was fun! What do you guys want to do now?”

 

“It depends on how ready the guys are,” I answered. Both of us looked over at the other side of the room. They were ready all right. All three of them were stroking their hard cocks as they stared at us.

 

“Well,” Lisa said, taking a gulp from a glass that had somehow stayed upright. “What are we waiting for?”

 

I looked at Lisa. She looked at me. I looked at Victoria. She looked at me. They both looked at each other. There wasn’t anything we were waiting for. The only thing left to decide was how to do it.

 

The same unspoken thought flashed between me, Lisa and Victoria. We all climbed to our hands and knees and turned around. The guys were presented with a line of nice asses and wet pussies, ready and waiting for them. I grinned as I heard some cheers behind me, followed by swift footsteps. A pair of warm, strong hands grabbed me. I wasn’t certain who the hands belonged to, and didn’t look behind me to find out. Maybe I could tell by the shape of the dick that was about to slide inside me.

 

… Nope. But at least it felt good. I debated if I should turn around now to find out who was fucking me, or if I should just wait, and indulge that _very_ kinky fantasy I had of being a public use slut. After all, this was the most likely chance I was ever going to get, without the insanity of actually being a free use public slut.

 

I moaned, and there were matching groans from Lisa and Victoria. Each of us had a guy fucking us doggy style. Amy was in front of us, her gaze switching from girl to girl as she masturbated. I smirked as I noticed that her gaze kept on coming back to my breasts as they swung back and forth underneath me. Maybe I could get both Panacea and Glory Girl to suckle at my chest like a couple of babies.

 

As the guy behind me picked up speed, I smiled. This had been, and was going to keep on being, a great night.

 

I honestly hadn’t ever expected to come back to Winslow. It had become obvious that I wasn’t going to be allowed to learn anything there, Dad wasn’t around to guilt me into going, and I wasn’t living at home for social service workers to find. But, I’d talked it over with Brian and Lisa, and had decided to come by to formally drop out of Winslow High School. Maybe later I’d get my GED, but for now, the Undersiders were going to be my life and social circle.

 

I was eager to get this over and done with, and go out on a date with Brian to relieve any lingering stress from this hellpit. And because I was going on a date with Brian, I was wearing clothes I could never have imagined on myself even a few months ago.

 

It wasn’t even that my outfit was that wild. A skirt that stopped just above my knees, leggings that covered everything, and a blouse that displayed only the smallest part of my cleavage. Still, Lisa and I had worked together to create an outfit that made me look _really_ good. I couldn’t wait to see Brian’s reaction when he saw me.

 

And it would be a good one, judging by the reactions of the students sharing the hallways with me. A people who I was vaguely acquainted with did exaggerated double takes at me. Since some of the people staring at me were with their significant others, I predicted a stormy relationship in the near future for Winslow’s dating scene.

 

Some of them were handling my new look better than others. Greg Veder, someone I barely knew or cared for, was acting like his head was on a swivel, and had stared at me every second I’d been in view, and a couple after. What was his problem? It’s not like we knew each other. We’d hardly talked at all, and I, somehow, had been even lower on the social totem pole of Winslow than him.

 

Luckily, I didn’t see the trio at all. Part of that, I had to admit, was planning my route to avoid the classrooms they should be going to. And of course, I knew what they looked like even in my insect’s blurred vision.

 

Dealing with the school’s administration was as pleasant as sitting on a bed of knives. Principal Blackwell was extremely condescending and dismissive towards me, and I had to grin and bear it if I wanted her signature. I got it, after a series of increasingly less-veiled remarks about me.

 

As I walked out of the office, I sighed in relief. With that over, I shouldn’t be returning to Winslow ever again. And none too soon. The bells were ringing for lunch, which meant the trio would be out in the halls soon. I couldn’t believe it had taken just over an entire class period to get Blackwell to sign the damn papers. I’d be pushing it to make my lunch date with Brian, and I couldn’t afford to get stopped by Emma and her pack of cronies. I went through the right halls at the right time, avoiding them without looking like I was doing so. I couldn’t avoid all of Emma’s flunkies, and I saw them pulling out their phones as I went by. Well, good for them. I’d be out of the school before they could do anything, unless Sophia wanted to actually sprint through the hallways just to take a swing at me.

 

I also couldn’t avoid Greg. Still, seeing him ogle my breasts versus having to deal with Emma, wasn’t really a dilemma. As I walked down the hall to where he was, I could see him visibly working up his courage to talk to me, in between staring at my breasts. Just as he stepped forward, he was elbowed aside by some jock-looking type.

 

He looked vaguely familiar, though I couldn’t quite place him. There were a lot of muscular guys and girls at Winslow, and far too many of them had gang signs. I couldn’t see any swastikas or red and black on him, so he probably wasn’t a Nazi. Which wasn’t the same as saying he was a nice guy. Greg could attest to that as he picked himself up off the floor, still staring at my breasts. And, in turn, just because you were weak and easily pushed around, didn’t make you a nice guy.

 

“Hey, baby. It’s Tina, right?” He didn’t wait for me to respond. “So, I was wondering how you’d like to go out with the star running back of the football team.” He winked and pointed a thumb at himself.

 

Now I remembered where I knew him from. He was one of the assholes Sophia convinced to try and chase me down to do something to me. I’d outran them, so I never found out what, but it hadn’t endeared me to them.

 

I thought of a couple different ways to respond to the jock. In the end, I went for one of the simplest and yet most effective. I kept on walking. I brushed past him and Greg, heading for the exit. I heard a splutter of rage behind me, and I tensed, prepared to deliver a brief, painful reminder of what happened if you grabbed a girl without permission.

 

Nothing happened, besides getting a lot more people looking at me. A tight, humorless smirk formed on my lips as my swarm picked up Emma and Sophia walking towards me. They were much too far away to reach me, especially since I was only a few feet from the exit.

 

As I stepped through Winslow’s doors for the last time, I fought the urge to turn around and flip the building and almost everyone in it off. Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty. Now all I had to do was go meet Brian and have a nice, filling lunch.

 

As I left the school perimeter, my smile got slightly more humorous. Emma and Sophia were still walking towards the exit, as was Greg. It looked like they’d all arrive at once. Too bad, so sad, Emma. You’d just missed your last chance to see me ever again. Over the years, I’d thought about the perfect cutting remark to make to her as something suitably nasty got her out of my life forever, but, in the end, this was fine. I was okay with leaving my former best fried behind me without any witty one-liner or humiliation.

 

And now it was time to go have lunch with my lover, and spend the rest of the afternoon with my friends. I couldn’t think of anything better.

 

**Epilogue**

Amy shifted from side to side, trying to get comfortable. Not too far, of course. If she moved too far, she would be embarrassed for ten seconds before dying, which was the logical thing to feel and happen after you squirm so much you fall out of your sister’s arms as she’s flying you back home.

 

Normally, flying with Victoria, being wrapped up in her arms and pressed against her body, was both pain and pleasure for Amy. Pleasure, because getting to touch her sister was a wonderful, amazing feeling, even if she never dared to let her hands wander and touch all the places she wanted to touch. Pain, because she couldn’t touch all the places she wanted to touch, knowing that her sister didn’t even begin to think there could be something between them, something more than just sisterly affection.

 

Tonight, however, Amy’s thoughts were turned inward, focused on her own body. More specifically, on the small piece of plastic inside her. Sara had slid the buttplug inside her during the final minutes of the orgy, and had convinced her to keep it inside her. Amy had felt her eyes cross as it slid inside her. Nothing had ever gone back there before tonight, and Amy had thought it would always stay that way. Not even the fact that it didn’t feel as bad (and even somewhat good) as Amy had thought changed that. And the look on Sara’s face when she did that…

 

Sara… Amy had never really thought about hate fucks before, but she certainly believed in them now. That girl was annoying. Smug and superior, like some underage whore was better than the most famous healer on the East Coast. Yes, she knew her way around another girl’s body, but her constant quips and smug self-assurance was bad enough it almost wasn’t worth it.

 

Amy still wasn’t sure how Sara had talked her into putting the buttplug in. And of course, once it was in, it wasn’t coming out soon. There wasn’t time or privacy in the room as everyone got dressed. And, obviously, she couldn’t do it now. Once they got home, Mom and Dad would probably want to talk about what had happened, and Amy would have to concentrate on making sure her story matched Victoria’s.

 

It would be at least an hour before Amy could pull out that plug. And then she’d have to do something with it. She couldn’t just leave it on the nightstand, obviously. She’d have to clean it and then hide it, at least until she found somewhere to throw it away (not the trash can under the sink. Her family might find it, and there was the occasional creepily obsessed fan who dug through their garbage.)

 

“Something wrong, Ames?”

 

Amy shivered at the sound of her sister’s voice, as smooth as silk. There was no way she could confess that a whore had stuck something up her ass, and had tried to get her to agree to leave it in for the rest of the weekend.

 

“No, no, I’m just… sticky. I could really use a shower when we get home.”

 

Victoria laughed, her voice sounding like tinkling bells.

 

“Tell me about it. I haven’t sweated that much since my last basketball game.”

 

Amy nodded, before burying her face in Victoria’s shoulder. Her sister was right. She had been sweating a lot. The floral perfume she’d applied before they left the house was entirely gone now, the scent buried under the smell of exertion. It was still nice to be able to press her face against her sister, though.

 

Amy looked up at the night sky above them, slowly lightening as the sun rose over the Atlantic Ocean. She didn’t really see the fading stars, as her mind was busy going over what had happened. Amy had thought Victoria was joking when she invited her to a strip club to celebrate Carlos’s birthday. She almost had to pull Amy inside when they arrived, and Amy realized her sister was dead serious.

 

And inside the club certainly hadn’t been Amy’s idea of a good time. Bright, flashing lights and overwhelming, monotonous music were far less enjoyable to her than to her sister. Maybe watching beautiful women dance and take their clothes off could have helped, but there weren’t very many dancers who were any good that night. Until her sister got up on stage and stripped until she was only wearing a thong so skimpy that there was no way their parents knew about it.

 

After that, things started taking a turn for the better. She’d gone farther than she’d ever dared hope with Victoria, even if it wasn’t a patch on what she had dreamed about. Getting to kiss her, to feel those strong muscles moving underneath Vicky’s soft skin… Amy had even gotten to the insides of her sister’s thighs, before caution reasserted itself. Having to get cum in her mouth was a small price to pay in exchange for getting to feel her perfect sister’s perfect body.

 

And of course, there had been the orgasms. Amy supposed she owed Sara some thanks, for giving her her first orgasms without using her own fingers.

 

Something about Sara, and Tawnee too, made Amy feel puzzled as soon as she saw them. There was a nagging sense of familiarity, like they’d met before. But Amy had drawn a blank on that all night. She certainly hadn’t gone to the strip club before, she didn’t think they went to Arcadia with her and Victoria, and she couldn’t think of where else she could have seen them. Walking the streets maybe. That seemed about right for someone like them.

 

Despite Amy’s uncharitable thoughts about the escorts she’d spent the night with, she had to admit that Tawnee, at least, had a certain something about her. Two somethings really. Amy regretted the fact that she hadn’t gotten to play with those huge breasts at least once during the night. And those nipple piercings had gleamed in the light so intriguingly. Amy wouldn’t have turned down the chance to play with them and see how much the floozy would moan as Amy tugged on them.

 

Amy was aware she was feeling somewhat less charitable than normal. She put most of that down to her hangover. She had been urged on by Sara to drink up and get less nervous. Amy probably wouldn’t have if Sara hadn’t matched her drink for drink. And now she was paying the price.

 

Amy looked away from the sunrise as it got to bright. It seemed horribly unfair to her that she was the only one suffering a hangover. If the other heroes had been drinking all night with her, Amy could have touched them for five seconds and left them feeling right as rain. But because _she_ was the only who’d drank a lot, she was the only one with a hangover, and she couldn’t heal herself of as much as a papercut.

 

Amy buried her head back into Victoria’s shoulder. She couldn’t decide if she wanted the ride to last longer, so she could stay wrapped in her sister’s arms, or if she wanted it to be over as soon as possible, so she could go lie down in a dark room. She wished she could split the difference, and lie down in a dark room with Victoria. But, she knew her sister would be ready to go hang out with her friends as soon as the two of them satisfied parental inquiries about last night.

 

Ugh, but first she’d have to get that plug out of her ass. Right, first assure the parents that everything was fine and they hadn’t gone out boozing and whoring. Then get that toy out of her rear, clean it, and hide somewhere no one would find it. Then, and only then, could Amy go rest for a few hours before she would have to get up to go to the hospital to work the shift she had put her name down for. After several hours of that, _then_ , she could go home.

 

Amy wasn’t sure how many more fun filled nights with her big sister she could stand.

 

Non-Canon Epilogue

 

I was slowly writing a short essay on parahuman Tinkers and patent law when there was a knock on my bedroom door. I looked up, more than ready for a distraction from my homework. College-level classes weren’t harder than high school, it just took more time to do the homework for.

 

Amy entered. I gave my sister my best “I’m glad to see you” smile. She didn’t smile back. I nodded to my bed. She sat down on it, and I spun my chair around to face her.

 

“What’s up?” I asked, leaning back.

 

Amy stared at me for a minute before closing her eyes and sighing. I waited for her to speak.

 

“We’ve got a problem. Last night, remember ‘Sara’ and ‘Tawnee’?”

 

I nodded. Boy, did I ever. I didn’t do much with Sara, but that Tawnee girl was _hot_. And up for almost anything. I’d been wondering on and off for a week now what to do for Dean’s birthday, and I was beginning to suspect I had an answer.

 

Amy looked ready to either spit or throw up as she continued talking.

 

“When I touched them, I couldn’t help but notice they both had a Corona Pollentia.”

 

I frowned. That… was bad news. There was only one reason a person would have that structure in their brain, but that meant-

 

“Why would two capes be slumming as prostitutes?”

 

It didn’t make sense. There were maybe three parahumans I’d heard of in thirty years who didn’t do _something_ with their powers. And none of them were right smack dab in the prime of their lives.

 

“Come on Vicky. Two capes, one with big boobs and long black hair. Her friend’s a blonde. Ring a bell?”

 

I stared at Amy for a second before I made the same connection she had. My eyes widened and I said a word Mom had repeatedly told me never to say around cameras.

 

“Bug bitch and Tattletale?”

 

Amy nodded, a grim expression on her face. And now that I had said it, the connection seemed inescapable. They were close enough in height for the right shoes to do the rest, the same body type, hell, Sara even sounded like Tattletale. How could I have been so blind?

 

I slumped back into my chair, fingers drumming against the desktop. Hell, that meant the two of them had infiltrated the nightclub to get to us. Was Tattletale really psychic, and had mindwhammied people to make them think she and her friend worked there? And how had they known we were coming? I hadn’t known the exact club until just a few hours before.

 

Damn it, damn it, damn it. The interviews the PRT did after the bank robbery said that it was pretty likely Tattletale could pick up information from people even if they didn’t say it. And she’d spent all night with me, Amy, and-

 

“I have to call Dean. And the others. We have to warn them.”

 

Oh God, Mom was going to tear a strip of skin off of me when I told her. And I’d have to tell her. And then Director Piggot would want to do the same. And Armsmaster, Miss Militia and everybody else I knew as a cape.

 

Damn it, how had a bit of fun ended so badly?

 

* * *

All characters in sexual situations are over the age of consent. If the text says that they aren't, this message takes precedence over the text. This is an unofficial fan work, and not endorsed by Wildbow in any way.  
  
A commission for Chojomeka. A Capitalism Ho! 3 for Enigmatic is up on Patreon. Next up is To Love Yourself 2 for Dr. Mercurious.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Skitter Stripper 6**

  
The orgy of reality didn’t match up that well with the orgy of her dreams. Whenever Amy had imagined herself being in an orgy, it was an all-female one. There would be her and her sister, of course, and a variety of other girls drawn from Amy’s life. And it would all be fun and games, and Victoria wouldn’t mind that she and Amy had lots and lots of sex.  
  
So what other girls should there be? Amy felt that it was cheating to just populate her imaginary orgy with Vicky variants. Maid Vicky, nun Vicky, that sort of thing. So who else should be there? Sara, maybe. Amy felt obligated to include the prostitute the Wards she was with had hired. After all, she had done a _lot_ to and for Amy. And Battery seemed to have that lovely MILF bodytype going on, though Amy had no idea how old the superhero was. Who else should attend? Well, whoever Amy picked, one thing was certain. They would all be girls.  
  
In reality, Amy and Victoria were both present. And that was about it. Half of the… orgierers maybe was the word, were guys. Well-muscled guys, who Amy knew were attractive, but still guys, and therefore a major turnoff and barely worth her attention. As for the girls?  
  
Well, Victoria continued to be as perfect as always. Even now, when she was on all fours and getting railed by Dean. Amy wished she could be the one making Victoria look like that. Her classically beautiful face contorted in the extremes of pleasure, her large breasts hanging underneath her as her boyfriend fucked her… God, sometimes Amy was _really_ jealous of Dean instead of just jealous of him.  
  
The other two girls were good enough eye candy, at least if Victoria hadn’t been there. The brunette bimbo was something else. Amy was surprised she could walk around with those udders on her chest. Not that she was getting the chance to right now. Instead, she was getting fucked hard by Carlos.  
  
Tammie or Taylor or whatever… Tawnee, Amy thought it was Tawnee (and God above, was that a stupid name. But a stupid name for a stupid looking girl, Amy supposed) was shaking her boobs all over the place as she got fucked. If Amy got to close to them, she supposed she’d get her eye taken out. Especially by one of those piercings she had.  
  
The nipple piercings she had were surprisingly tasteful, especially since Tawnee seemed the type to love pink and sequins. They were just a bar of metal through her nubs, with small balls at each end. They looked big enough to have things attached to them, though. Amy wondered how often the overpriced, oversexed bimbo got led around like a dog with a leash attached to both her breasts.  
  
Something seemed to be flying from Tawnee’s breasts with every stroke from Carlos. At first Amy thought the white specks were cum from one of the innumerable cum shots the stripper had taken. Then she realized what they really were.  
  
The big-boobed, big-haired bimbo was lactating. Amy wondered if she was pregnant and, if so, if she knew who the father was. Probably not, Amy decided. Tawnee looked like the type of girl who took a dozen new cocks a night, and charged more if they wanted to use a condom.  
  
Amy’s gaze wandered from Tawnee over to her original partner for the night. Sara seemed to have more brains than her friend, not that that looked hard. She was looking back at Amy, those green eyes seeming to know all about her and finding it amusing. Amy shivered, remembering how Sara had told her it was okay if Amy wanted to call her a different name, while glancing at Victoria. And Amy had almost done so, as the blonde stripper had coaxed an orgasm out of her.  
  
Tearing her eyes away from where Sara was getting fucked by Rory, Amy naturally looked back at Victoria. Her sister kept on looking hotter and hotter, and Amy wished with every fiber of her being that she could nudge Dean away and show her sister how much better an woman could make a woman feel.  
  
_Amy_ should be the one making Victoria cry out like that. Amy should be the one with her hands on Victoria’s hips, looking down at her bubble butt as it slammed against her. Amy should be the one making Victoria’s face split in a wide smile of pleasure. It just wasn’t fair.  
  
Amy felt frustrated arousal grow inside her. She yanked her gaze back to the foursome on the other side of the room. Sara and Tawnee were side by side now, flat on their backs as they got fucked by Rory and Carlos. Amy’s lips twitched in a brief smile as she watched them start to make out with each other. Both of them had one hand gripping the bed, and the other on each other’s cheeks, holding themselves closely together as they kissed.  
  
But soon, Tawnee broke the kiss. It seemed she couldn’t keep on making out with another girl _and_ demonstrate to the entire room how good she was feeling. Sara pouted as her kissing partner started moaning and thrashing around.  
  
Tawnee was quite the talker. She was letting the entire room know how good it felt to have Carlos fucking her. She couldn’t get it together enough to use actual words, but her constant gasps and moans and half-formed cries got the idea through pretty clearly.  
  
Amy wondered, with Tawnee’s high pitched voice, if people ever thought she was a high schooler or something. If they did, she was sure that the big-boobed stripper got them to pay more, even without dressing up like a naughty student.  
  
Sara was much more streamlined, though only in comparison to Tawnee. On her own, Amy would have checked her out far more than once, and not just because she had long, silky blonde hair, and deep green eyes. She had a nice rack, and legs that Amy thought would look nice in high heels.  
  
And she was a lot quieter than Tawnee. She was biting her lip to stop from crying out like her friend. Rory seemed to take that as a challenge, picking up the pace and making her feel so good Sara’s back arched, lifting her off the bed. Amy licked her lips as she watched the blonde’s boobs jiggle, shaking from the force of the thrusts.  
  
Eventually, Rory made Sara feel so good she started crying out as well. She could manage actual words, and was begging Rory to fuck her harder, and to make her cum by pumping a huge load of his sticky semen into her. Her voice was high-pitched, but still not at the glass shattering levels of her friend.  
  
It did the job, though. Both Carlos and Rory started thrusting even harder than before, slamming into the two whores. After a minute of getting urged on, they came, their voices a low-pitched counterpoint to Sara’s and Tawnee’s. Amy knew neither of them were wearing condoms. The blonde and the bimbo had just gotten creampied.  
  
Well, that was that then. Amy wouldn’t be giving Sara any more oral sex tonight, not unless she cleaned herself out really well. Tasting a man’s cum had only been bearable because Amy had gotten to bury her face in Victoria’s pussy. And she wasn’t anywhere near attracted to the hired help was she was to her sister.  
  
Taking another swig from her glass, Amy realized she hadn’t heard anything from Dean and Victoria in a while. She looked back over to them, wondering what was happening. She could barely keep herself from rolling her eyes.  
  
The two of them had almost stopped fucking, with only the slightest grinding of their hips to show that Dean was still inside Victoria. Instead, they were both watching the foursome, as Sara and Tawnee clung to their partners, begging for more. They got more contact, if not more fucking.  
  
Carlos and Rory were both strong enough to pick up Sara and Tawnee. Pretty easily, too, just scooping the girls up. Amy’s eyebrows rose as she saw how much cum poured out of the two of them as the boy’s dicks slid out. It was just a steady stream of white, oozing out of the stripper’s pussies.  
  
Amy shivered as she imagined what that must feel like. All that hot liquid, inside a rather sensitive place? She wondered if girls who said they liked getting creampied were just lying, or if they were really so kinky that they enjoyed it. Hopefully Amy would never have to find out for herself.  
  
Carlos and Rory put their girls down, and directed them to their softening dicks. Sara and Tawnee took up their task enthusiastically, sucking the shrinking shafts and cupping their balls. Amy’s lips twitched. Obviously the whores couldn’t wait to get fucked again. And that would make, what? Their fifth round of the night.  
  
Amy couldn’t imagine how anybody could have that much stamina. Even for money, and Amy had overheard how much the boys had paid for this room and the two girls. They were getting a _lot_ of money, and it still wouldn’t have been enough to give Amy as much stamina as they had. Hell, one orgasm was usually enough for her per session. Any more than that and Amy started feeling overly sensitive. So why wasn’t she feeling like that now? Amy knew she had cum a couple of times night.  
  
Then she took another swig of her drink and the answer came to her. Hell, wasn’t it Shakespeare who said that wine giveth the desire but taketh the ability? It had certainly given the desire, but Amy wasn’t so sure about the ability. She hadn’t really had a chance to try her lovemaking skills out tonight. She had mostly been a pleasure princess, letting Sara take care of her.  
  
And what kind of care! Sara had obviously been selling herself for a while now, to get so good. Her fingers and mouth had been all over Amy. It was like she had read Amy’s mind to know where all of her most pleasurable spots were. And she had touched on every one of them, again and again. Amy had actually whited out during her last orgasm. Her mind had been filled with exploding stars as Sara used a finger to stroke Amy’s G-spot. That had been something Amy had always hoped she had, but had never been able to find. She supposed she owed Sara a thank you for showing it to her.  
  
Amy had given back, a bit. After all, the chance to pretend that the blonde beauty she was with was Victoria didn’t come up to often. And she liked to think that she had given Sara a fair bit of pleasure in exchange.  
  
But, in the end, Sara was working for Amy, not vice versa. Any sexual frustration Sara wasn’t getting fucked out of her by Carlos could be relieved by masturbating on a seat of all the money the boys had paid the club.  
  
Although glancing over at the foursome, Amy didn’t see how Sara could possibly _not_ be sexually satisfied. Assuming her tastes ran to men, of course. But if she was faking it, she was doing a damn good job. Amy thought she might need to offer some discrete healing to Carlos and Rory afterwards, to repair shattered eardrums.  
  
Amy shook her head in disbelief. They were at it _again_. Sara and Tawnee were on all fours, sloppily making out with each other. And behind them, Carlos and Rory were fucking them. In fact, from their relative heights, Amy thought they were both fucking the whores in the ass. Their pussies must have finally gotten too filled with cum, Amy supposed.  
  
From her side-on view, Amy had a really good look at Tawnee’s swaying breasts. She couldn’t believe the size that slut had. Give her some black and white leggings, and she would look like a human cow. Amy briefly pondered how she could help (‘help’) the prostitute live out Amy’s momentary fantasy. No matter how full of milk she was now, Amy was sure that she could make the dark-haired girl even more productive. Sure, it would mean violating some self-imposed ethical restraints, but, at least in an erotically-charged daydream, that was a price Amy was willing to pay.  
  
Amy was distracted as she felt someone grab her foot and tug. Looking over, she saw Victoria smiling at her. Amy’s heart sped up, seeing the beautiful smile get directed at her. Swallowing nervously, she smiled back. She hated how plastic it felt, but there was so much arousal in her lower stomach, and it was all being aimed at one girl and one girl only.  
  
Victoria half tugged Amy over to her, and half crawled to where she was. Amy couldn’t bring herself to complain. Especially since it ended with Victoria on top of her, large breasts pressed against her and her smiling face just two inches away from Amy’s own. Amy could kiss her, just lean up and claim those lips, if only she had the courage to do so.  
  
The fact that she didn’t have the courage was the fly in the ointment. Not even as drunk as she was, or how much she treasured the memory of kissing Sara. (At least, Amy was pretty sure she had been kissing Sara. All the drinks she had downed were making her memory a bit fuzzy.) But maybe another drink would help.  
  
Amy reached out, her fingers barely brushing the stem of one of the half-full glasses sitting on a stand next to the bed. She offered it to Vicky while she grabbed another, rather fuller glass. Vicky smiled as she raised her multi-colored drink in a toast.  
  
“Well, Amy. Here’s to us!”  
  
With that, she downed her drink, tilting her head back to drain every last drop. Amy swallowed nervously, watching the graceful curve of her sister’s throat. Victoria had no idea what Amy wanted those words to mean. To her, they were just a mark of sisterly love. But Amy, Amy wanted…  
  
A whole lot of things. And she might be able to get them, if she only had the courage to reach out and take them. Amy gulped down her own drink, feeling the burn of the alcohol down her throat and then her stomach. As she finished her glass, Amy saw Victoria sway slightly and hiccup. Amy’s heart rate redoubled at that sign.  
  
Taking the chance, Amy swayed also. And then she fell forward into her sister’s body. Victoria caught her, and held her close. Amy didn’t have quite enough courage to do anything besides rest her hand on Vicky’s outer thighs, but even that was good enough.  
  
While Victoria’s face was normally worthy of quite a bit of attention, right now Amy found her gaze focused a bit lower. Vicky’s full chest was just inches away from her. Amy’s mouth watered, and she almost lifted her hands off of her sister’s hips. She could almost feel those soft yet firm breasts underneath her hands, fingers slowly sinking in and moving around Victoria’s tanned skin. Neither Amy nor Victoria noticed how her hands were doing just that on the blonde’s thighs.  
  
Amy thought this had to be pretty close to heaven. Was her sister drunk enough to want to have sex? Amy hoped so. That would make this night the best one she had ever had. And, for all her grousing, it had already been pretty good. The sight of Victoria dancing up on a stage, slowly stripping, would stay with her for a long time, especially whenever she needed some fuel for a masturbation session.  
  
“Amy, hey, hey, Amy,” Victoria muttered. A wave of alcohol washed over Amy as her sister opened her mouth. And here Amy was, thinking she had been the one drinking the most. “Ish not fair, you know?” Victoria continued, rubbing her body against Amy’s.  
  
Amy nodded along, glad to listen to whatever Victoria had to say so long as she got to feel her sister like this. And, in a crowning glory, one of Victoria’s thighs was in between Amy’s legs. If she could just shift a bit…  
  
Amy smiled widely as her soaked crotch got pressed against Victoria’s toned, bronzed leg. There was a rush of pure pleasure, made so much better because it was _Victoria_ Amy was pressed against. Wait, had she said something? And had Amy nodded in agreement to it?  
  
It was hard to concentrate on anything besides the sight and smell and feel of Victoria. But Amy thought her sister had said something about her, Amy having fun too, and that she, Victoria would be right there with her. That… actually sounded pretty damn good. Amy was down for make out session with Victoria, even if it was only because her sister was drunk.  
  
Then Amy felt a pair of hands on her thighs, gently spreading them apart. Even without her power, she knew it would have had to have been Dean. And her power told her he was completely hard, and he wasn’t touching Victoria. Shit, had she just agreed to have sex with Dean?  
  
Somehow, Amy couldn’t bring herself to get as mad as she should be at the thought of her sister’s boyfriend fucking her. Maybe it was the intoxicating presence of Victoria, even without her emotional aura. Maybe it was all the booze she had chugged. Maybe it was because she had watched a lot of people have a lot of sex, and she hadn’t been included in most of it.  
  
Whatever the reason, Amy was just nervous about getting fucked by Dean, instead of disgusted and appalled. And Victoria helped soothe her worries. She leaned down, giving Amy a deep, deep kiss. Amy almost shouted in joy, feeling her sister’s firm lips against her own. She eagerly kissed back, wrapping her arms around Victoria’s back.  
  
Amy whined as Victoria broke the kiss. Her older sister turned her head, covering Amy’s face with her long, silky blonde hair. Amy breathed in, smelling the shampoo her sister was wearing. Something floral. It smelled great.  
  
“She’s ready, baby. Just, be careful, please?”  
  
“Of course, Vicky. Here I go, Amy,” Dean’s voice was warm and smooth, but was still an unwelcome contrast to Victoria’s voice.  
  
And then, thankfully, Victoria turned back to Amy. Amy quickly pulled her in for another kiss, clutching her sister like a drowning woman clutched a life vest. Amy twitched as she felt Dean’s cock slide along her inner thighs, and then in between her soaked lower lips.  
  
And like this, if Amy ignored her power, she could pretend it was Victoria fucking her, and not Dean. It was Victoria pushing into her, spreading her walls apart with her cock. It was Victoria she was clamping down around, her wet pussy squeezing the thick rod that felt like it was going to break her in half.  
  
Amy realized that she was feeling really, really good. She had never thought a man could turn her on like this, but Dean’s penis, and his fingers brushing against her clit and inner thighs, were feeling almost as good as kissing Victoria. Amy twitched, her body trying to grind against Dean, before reason reasserted itself. She should be taking in every detail of Victoria’s body, and trying to bring her as much pleasure as possible.  
  
Amy was telling herself she was feeling this good because she was kissing Victoria. Not because of how Dean was stirring up her pussy, making her melt around him. After all, she was a lesbian, who was exclusively attracted to blonde, busty women. And since that didn’t describe Dean, obviously she wasn’t about to orgasm because of him. It was simple really.  
  
Amy moved her quivering hands from Victoria’s back, and reached in between their bodies. She gently, hesitantly, touched her sister’s full, perfect breasts. They had to be the best pair Amy had ever seen. Not an outright parody like Tawnee’s, and not slightly asymmetrical like Amy’s. But two perfect globes, standing out from Victoria’s chest, flawless in every way.  
  
Amy wished she could kiss them, but Victoria was inadvertently trapping her. And there was no way she could, even now, get up the courage to ask Victoria to move so Amy could better appreciate her sister’s boobs. Instead, she just had to move her hands, even though they were trapped in between both of the Dallon’s girls’ bodies.  
  
Amy was feeling hotter and hotter, and she realized something. She was going to cum with a man’s penis inside her. That was something she had never, ever dreamed would have happened before. But Amy could tell she was just a few seconds away. She clung tightly to Victoria, pressing their bodies against each other as she shook in pleasure.  
  
Amy’s fingers dug into Victoria’s shoulders as the knot of pleasure inside her unraveled. She screamed into Victoria’s mouth as she came, feeling her entire body twitch as Dean fucked her. Amy felt like she was going to come apart, like she was going to fragment into a thousand tiny pieces as Victoria and Dean devoted all their attention to her.  
  
Victoria muffled her screaming with her mouth, pulling her into a deep kiss. She didn’t let up until Amy’s lungs started burning from the lack of oxygen. By then, her orgasm had finally washed over her. She slumped back onto the bed, dazedly staring up at the ceiling.  
  
Victoria smiled, and tucked an errant strand of hair back behind Amy’s ear. Behind them, Dean sped up his thrusts. He came less than a minute after Amy did, panting Victoria’s name as he unloaded inside of Amy. Amy’s eyes shot wide open as, for the first time, someone came in her. She twitched around underneath Victoria as her womb was flooded with Dean’s cum.  
And in a final experience Amy had never thought she would have, her pussy was filled with a man’s cum. It was so sticky, and seemed to fill up every inch of her that Dean’s dick hadn’t already claimed. It was an intense feeling, but not really a good one. Amy thought she would prefer to stay with women. And with one woman in particular.  
  
That woman was gently stroking Amy’s face. Amy tried to get enough coordination together to push against her hands, to feel that soft yet firm strength. She knew she was making a weird expression as she felt both Dean’s cock and cum inside her and Vicky’s hands on her. Victoria softly laughed at her face, and kissed her forehead.  
  
“How was it Ames? You ever had an orgasm so intense?”  
  
Amy couldn’t bring herself to speak. She just jerkily shook her head. That had been far more intense than any of her masturbation sessions, no matter what fantasy she used during them. It had even been more intense than her fun with Sara earlier tonight. And it had all been because of Victoria.  
  
Victoria, who was cradling her head in her hands, so, so close to her perfect breasts. Amy’s mouth watered, and she wondered if she could get away with popping one of Vicky’s nipples inside her mouth. Victoria, with her long, bronzed legs. Victoria, with her passionate dedication to justice. Victoria, who made Amy feel a gut-churning mix of emotions every time she saw her sister. Perfect, perfect Victoria.  
  
Amy decided that when she thought about tonight later, she would only remember Victoria fucking her. It would be Victoria’s cock pumping into her, Victoria’s finger brushing past her clit. Only and ever Victoria.  
  
After all, Amy was a lesbian, and wasn’t attracted to men.  


* * *

  
  
  
Sophia was getting grumpier and grumpier, and Emma wasn’t sure how much longer she would be sticking with her. But Emma needed Sophia here. The only way she hadn’t been seen yet by Taylor was because Sophia could ghost through objects, dragging Emma behind with her. If she went off to do her own thing, Emma could either be stealthy, and lose track of Taylor and the black boy with her, or run to keep up, and be painfully obvious.  
  
And there was no way in hell Emma would be giving Taylor the satisfaction on seeing Emma trailing after her like a dog. If anything, _Taylor_ should be following _Emma_ , and be grateful for whatever scraps Emma deigned to pass her way. Not this. Nothing remotely like this. Not making Emma (and Sophia) hide in the entryway of a store, watching Taylor and a handsome, handsome black guy sit down at an outside table at a café.  
  
Emma only realized she was grinding her teeth together when Sophia nudged her. She looked into her friend’s dark face and pulled herself together. She ignored Sophia’s raised eyebrows, and focused on what was actually happening. And how impossible it all was.  
  
Part of her just couldn’t believe what Taylor was looking like now. There was no way in hell boobs could come in so fast, not naturally. Emma had no idea how Taylor had scrounged up the money to pay for plastic surgery, or why she thought it was a good idea. Actually, it might just been padding. That would have been in even Taylor’s budget, though it still didn’t answer the question of how she thought she was fooling _anybody_ with it.  
  
For that matter, Emma was sure Taylor looked prettier. She was still ugly, but at least she wasn’t as vomit inducing as she had been. It was makeup, Emma supposed, that had softened the harsh lines on her face to make her look better.  
  
Emma ducked back into the alcove she and Sophia were sheltering in. There was a piercing pain in her hands. She looked down, and realized her fists were clenched so tightly that her fingernails were digging into her skin. Forcing herself to unclench, she breathed in and out, trying to regain her sense of balance.  
  
Okay, so Taylor was tarting herself up to get some handsome black guy _way_ out of her league. Emma could work with that. Get Taylor alone and have a heart to heart with her about her prospects once her boytoy saw her without makeup or a padded bra. Or maybe she and Sophia could have a talk with the guy. She was sure the two of them could get any guy drooling over them. And maybe send Taylor some photos of the three of them, sans shirts or something. That could work too.  
  
“How much longer are we going to waste here?” Sophia muttered, glancing at her watch.  
  
“As long as it takes, alright?” Emma hissed back, peeking around the corner again.  
  
Taylor and the stud she was conning were wrapping up their lunch date. The wind blew brief snippets of conversation back to Emma, and she could tell they were playfully arguing over who would pay for it. Then Emma heard something a bit more risqué than some playful banter.  
  
“… you back,” Taylor faintly said, “… maybe my mouth?” Emma didn’t hear the rest, but even from so far away, it was clear that Taylor was looking at the guy’s crotch.  
  
Emma’s jaw dropped. _Taylor_ was flirting with someone? Stick-thin, socially hopeless Taylor was doing that? That, that just wasn’t possible. There was something wrong here, and Emma was going to find out about it, and show Taylor that there was no way a loser like her could act like this and get away with it.  
  
Emma fought to keep her breath under control as Taylor and the big guy kissed, wrapping their arms  
  
“Come on, we have to follow them,” Emma said, shaking Sophia by the shoulder.  
  
“Do we have to?” Sophia asked, looking more and more fed up with the idea.  
  
“Think of it as a chance to keep your stalking skills in shape, okay?” Emma said, pulling Sophia with her as Taylor and her boyfriend walked away from them.  
  
Sophia muttered something under her breath, but followed Emma as Emma followed Taylor. Emma couldn’t get why Sophia didn’t see the problem with all of this. This was _Taylor Hebert_ , dating some guy who was better looking than almost anybody in Winslow. Things weren’t right here, not with Taylor acting like she deserved this, and it was up to Emma to put things right. And oh, how Emma was looking forward to that.  
  
Emma trailed Taylor and her date to a nearby park, and then lost track of them. Looking around, Emma forced herself to think logically. They weren’t on the trail, or on the grass nearby. They hadn’t been walking fast enough to get out of sight. But there was a wooded area to her left, that they could have slipped into.  
  
Emma set off on an arcing path to the grove, careful not to approach the same way Taylor probably had. That did lead to a problem. There were bushes concealing her from view, but unless she wanted to make more noise than a marching band moving through them, she’d have to crawl underneath the branches. Emma looked down at her cashmere sweater and sighed. The sacrifices she made. Well, there was nothing for it.  
  
Sophia a few feet behind her, Emma kneeled down and started crawling through the bushes on her belly. She better get something really juicy from this, ruining one of her favorite sweaters over this. Already she could see some dirt getting rubbed into the edge of one sleeve. And there were a ton of bugs around. Emma was glad she wasn’t squeamish, because she was sure they were getting into her hair.  
  
It didn’t take long for Emma and Sophia to get close enough to see Taylor and her boyfriend through the screen of leaves, without being seen in turn. And then Emma’s jaw just about hit the floor. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.  
  
Emma had _thought_ that Taylor would, at most, be in the middle of a make out session. It was a lot more likely that she and the guy would just be hugging each other. And if there was any justice in the world, the boy would have seen Taylor for the boring, ugly twig she was, and would have already left her, just waiting for Emma to come up and console her.  
  
What was actually happening was something Emma would never have dreamed of. Taylor was straddling her boyfriend as he lay on the grass. Taylor had her shirt off, and was facing Emma. There was no way Emma could continue to believe that Taylor was stuffing her bra. Or even that she had somehow gotten plastic surgery. Those unbelievably huge tits were, impossibly, all natural. The way they swung and jiggled as Taylor rode her boyfriend showed that they were obviously flesh and blood, and not just skin stretched over silicone.  
  
Emma found that her eyes kept on getting drawn back to Taylor’s tits. The slut had even gotten them pierced! Emma could just make out some black triangles bouncing up and down on her nipples as she fucked her boyfriend. When had she gotten those? Emma’s eyes narrowed. That would be something to use the next time Taylor showed up for gym class. Let’s see how tough and confident Taylor was when she was topless in front of the entire girl’s locker room, with Sophia holding her down. And Emma telling her wat kind of girl got nipple piercings. _Then_ the shoe would be on the other foot!  
  
Emma’s rage grew and grew as she watched the two of them enjoy themselves. Sometimes Taylor would even climb off of the boy’s lap and run her disgustingly huge tits along his shaft. And the boy enjoyed it. Emma could clearly hear him urging Taylor on.  
  
“Better than using your fingers, huh?” Sophia whispered, nudging Emma. Even as quiet as she was, Emma could hear a faint note of amusement in her voice. Emma turned to look at her, feeling baffled rage. How was she enjoying this? Couldn’t she see how wrong it was?  
  
Sophia looked back at her, her earlier sulkiness mostly submerged under a laconic smile. She met Emma’s gaze before turning back to the show in the clearing. Fuming at Sophia’s lack of vision, Emma turned back as well.  
  
Taylor and the handsome boy were really going at it. Emma could hear the sounds they both were making, grunts and gasps and urgings to go faster. This obviously wasn’t the first time they had fucked, and Emma wondered how long they had been together. And how she had never seen a hint of it before. She was sure the guy didn’t go to Winslow. So how had they met? It wasn’t as if Taylor ever did anything besides got to school and mope around in her room, crying about her mom.  
  
This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. Emma was the cool, glamorous, popular darling of the school. And Taylor was just some pathetic weakling, who was as ugly as she was clumsy. She wasn’t supposed to have a handsome boyfriend, wasn’t supposed to have these huge tits, wasn’t supposed to be enjoying her life like she was on top of the food chain. That was _Emma’s_ role, not Taylor’s. It was a violation of how the world worked, seeing her like this.  
  
Emma was shaking in a mix of anger and bafflement. Her fingers were curling up in the ground, tearing up the grass and dirt she was lying on. Her breath was coming in harsh pants, and she could see Sophia staring at her out of the corner of her eye. There was a look of worry on her friend’s face that Emma hated.  
  
She didn’t _need_ pity, she didn’t _need_ concern. This wasn’t right. Not seeing Taylor like this. This couldn’t be happening. This _wasn’t_ happening. It _was-_  
  
It was huge.  
  
It was bigger than anything Emma had a reference for. It stretched forever, an endless array of glistening lights moving along bizarrely shaped edges. No words Emma had ever known were enough to describe it as it stretched from edge of infinity to the other. A thousand thousand versions of itself nudged against each other, intersecting in ways that were impossible.  
  
And it was alive. Emma could tell that every piece, every light was alive in way she would never understand, acting in a way that nothing on Earth did. And she could tell it was dying.  
  
Pieces were falling off of it, spinning into the void as the thing twisted around, leaving behind a thousand illusory afterimages. And as it twisted, it left behind more and more fragments of itself, each of them still shining with impossible colors, and each of them still dimmer than the bulk it came off of.  
  
One of the fragments was coming towards her. It grew and grew, until Emma could nothing but it, hurtling towards her. And she didn’t feel afraid. She didn’t feel anything as she watched it, watched the impossibly complex patterns on and in it.  
  
- _n’t_ right.  
  
What?  
  
Emma blinked, feeling dazed. She had seen, no, she had been- where? She couldn’t remember. There had been stars, but-. But what? She couldn’t remember. Emma cradled her head in her hands, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. What had just happened?  
  
She turned to look at Sophia, who was looking dazed, blinking like she had just looked up at the sun. Emma reached over to touch Sophia’s shoulder. Sophia shook it off, glaring at her. Right, Emma should have remembered. Sophia hated for others to see any sign on weakness, much less offer her sympathy. But why had she been looking weak? Emma couldn’t remember. She shook her head, trying to get her thoughts back in order.  
  
Taylor and the stud helped with that. Emma and Sophia were downwind of them, so it was like they were just a foot away, they could hear Taylor’s voice so clearly.  
  
“God, Brian, that was incredible. I came so hard, I actually saw stars. You been practicing without me?”  
  
Taylor’s voice was happy and self-satisfied. She was resting on top of the boy, Brian, Emma supposed. Her tits were big enough that her upper stomach wasn’t actually pressed against Brian’s torso, instead forming enough of a gap that Emma could see the bushes on the other side of the clearing.  
  
“Me too,” Brian said. He reached up and wrapped his arms around Taylor, one huge hand pressed against the back of her head. “I haven’t felt that good in well, ever. I didn’t cum that hard even when you were wearing that costume last week.”  
  
“Yeah? What are you, an exhibitionist?” Taylor asked teasingly. She leaned in for a kiss, forestalling an answer.  
  
Emma couldn’t believe this. How could Taylor be so self-assured and flirty? Obviously this wasn’t their first time having sex. Hell, if Emma was right about what that reference to a costume meant, they were doing things far, far kinkier than Emma had ever dreamed of doing with any of her temporary boytoys.  
  
As Emma watched, a volatile mix of emotions still swirling inside her, Taylor leaned back and stood up a bit. Emma stared at the cock that was revealed. It was surprisingly shiny. At first Emma thought that was because of Taylor’s arousal, but then she realized the boy had been wearing a condom. That was surprising. Emma thought Taylor was the kind of slut who liked bareback sex and creampies.  
  
Brian reached down and tugged the condom off of himself. Emma was too far away to see how big he was, but surely BBC had some basis in reality, right? And he was certainly big in plenty of other respects. He looked like he could pick Taylor up in one hand, even with her inflated tits.  
  
God, was Taylor going to suck the cum out of that condom? It would fit with what Emma knew about her. After all, everyone knew Taylor was a slut who spread her legs for every boy in the school. It was the only way to get them to notice her, after all.  
  
Instead, Brian just tied it off, thick fingers still moving dexterously to ensure not a drop of cum escaped its latex prison. He sat up, drawing his arm back, obviously about to throw it away. Then Taylor stopped him, resting a hand on his impressively muscled arm.  
  
Now was she going to suck the cum out? Part of Emma hoped so. It would just be another confirmation of what a dirty, dirty whore she was. Another part of her was disgusted at the thought that even someone so desperate for attention as Taylor would do something so depraved.  
  
As it turned out, Taylor had something considerably more mundane in mind. Emma watched as she and Brian got dressed, and walked away, only pausing to throw the used condom into a trash can. The wind had shifted again so Emma couldn’t even tell what they were talking about as they got back onto the park’s path. But she could still see the big black guy grabbing Taylor’s ass and keeping his hand there. And Taylor didn’t pull away or scold him. Instead she pushed back against him, obviously rubbing herself against his big hand. God, what a slut. Didn’t she have any sense of modesty?  
  
And once again, how had she gotten somebody so hot? Emma wasn’t actively seeking a long-term boyfriend or anything, but she knew she was a much better catch than Taylor in every way that mattered. Money, looks, personality, social skills, the entire list. And she had never even seen somebody as hot as Brian who was available. So how had that little tart nabbed him?  
  
Emma watched them walk out of sight, the emotions inside her building and building like steam in a boiler. And like steam in a boiler, when the pressure got too much, everyone around her was alerted.  
  
Emma sprang to her feet, pushing the branches aside or snapping them entirely. Her face was contorted in a rapidly shifting display of extreme motions. She snapped her head around, waiting for the film crew to step out from behind a tree and reveal this was all some kind of sick prank.  
  
Emma stormed off home, not even bothering to pick the twigs and leaves out of her hair, or wiping the mud stains off of her clothes. She was so infuriated she could barely even see straight, and found herself having to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. She didn’t even hear Sophia calling out behind her, trying to keep up.  
  
Emma was going to-, going to-. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do just yet. But by God, she was going to make sure Taylor learned her place. Hell, she was going to make sure the entire city, the entire _world_ would see and understand where Taylor belonged on the social scale, and where Emma belonged.  


* * *

  
  
  
Today was a good day, I decided. I had finally put the hellhole of Winslow behind her forever. I had eaten a delicious meal with my boyfriend. I had some wonderful sex with said boyfriend. And now the rest of the day was still open to me, waiting for me to do whatever I wanted. It was freedom, and it felt great.  
  
Pretty much all of me felt great, really. My mind was being buoyed up on pink clouds from my general happiness. My breasts were feeling refreshingly light from Brian’s able efforts. And, of course, my pussy was still feeling tingly even long after Brian had pulled out of me. Today was a great day, and Brian had played a huge part in making it great. Maybe I should repay him. And blowjobs were popular everywhere. I’d just need to find someplace to do it where we weren’t guaranteed to get caught. A high risk of it was acceptable enough, like an alleyway or the like. But until we found such a place, at least there were some things I could do to show my affection.  
  
I wrapped my arm around Brian as they walked along, pulling myself close to him. Brian raised an eye at my display of affection, but didn’t object. In fact, he wrapped his own arm around my waist. We walked like that for a while, in an enjoyable, restful silence.  
  
I was still busy basking on just how good the sex with Brian had been. Getting to feel the sun on my bare skin as I spent time with my boyfriend had been wonderful all on its own, and the fact that it happened as I got fucked by him made it even better.  
  
And Brian had really paid a lot of attention to me. My breasts felt lighter than ever, after he had graciously sucked all of my milk out of both breasts and drank it all. Well, almost all. I smiled as I remembered how, when his warm lips left my nipple, I had seen beads of white scattered across his lips and chin. And how I had leaned in to lick my milk off of his warm skin. It had been quite tasty. And then Brian had started working on my other breast. It felt so good, I could probably have cum just from that, even with Brian’s dick inside me and his finger on my clit.  
  
That had felt even better. I always had a lot of milk to drain, and it was so much better for a hot guy to nurse at my breasts than it was to do it by hand. Or, presumably, with the bondage milking machine Lisa had shown me pictures of. And videos of. And had asked me if I was free next Thursday, and not to milk myself on Wednesday.  
I had to say, it was kind of weird to see how into that Lisa was getting. The only time I had seen her express the slightest sexual interest in anyone or anything was when she was three sheets to the wind. For her to be some damn enthused about watching me getting mechanically milked was a new experience. On the other hand, doing this with her wouldn’t come with the risk of her vomiting down my shirt, which was always a present risk with how she normally got into sexy times.  
  
I was thinking I would take her up on it. I had enjoyed bondage as an addition to whatever else was happening the few times I’d tried it at Club Lango. And getting milked _did_ feel good. And, of course, with Lisa there to be by my side, I wouldn’t be putting my trust in a stranger. I would probably do it, even if it meant letting my boobs get unpleasantly full of milk.  
  
Now, the only thing weighing my breasts down were the matching pair of nipple piercings Brian had given me at the start of the date. They were pretty fancy too, with an onyx cut in a heart shape in each one. I had had to use the lady’s room at the café we were at to switch them out with my former barbell piercings, but the time (and pain) had been well worth it when they got to the park. The look on Brian’s face when I pulled my bra off had been so, so sweet.  
  
It had been a pity he had been forced to use a condom, for both of us. A creampie always felt so good inside me, pussy, ass or mouth. And with the pills (the thankfully uncontaminated pills) there was no chance of pregnancy or a STI.  
  
But I was wearing a very new, very pretty, very expensive dress. And there was no way I was going to risk getting cum on it. So Brian had been forced to wear a condom, and I had made sure my skirt was neatly folded up and put on top of my shirt, where there was no chance whatsoever of it touching the grass.  
  
And the orgasm had still been really damn good. I had rarely cum so hard she blacked out like that. But something about today had just really got me going. I had no idea what it was, but I was glad it had happened. Even for someone as sexed up as me, orgasms like that were worth treasuring.  
  
I silently luxuriated in running my memory over the wonderful sex I had just had, and the date that was still ongoing. But the date was _still_ ongoing, and I was still with Brian, who obviously needed less time to bask in the memories.  
  
“What do you want to do next, babe?” Brian asked.  
  
I pondered the question. As I did so, I nodded at the courting couple coming up the path towards us. Once they passed, I spoke.  
  
“What I’d _like_ to do? Keep on relaxing in that clearing back there. Feeling the wind and the sun, all of that, on my bare skin.”  
  
“And what lovely skin it is,” Brian said gallantly.  
  
“Why thank you. But, even those slowpokes,” I waved a hand at the couple behind us, who had once again stopped to start kissing, “would have found us sooner or later. So now, um,” I thought over what else to do today. “Want to go to the Boardwalk? I want to make a pork chops recipe I found, and we need some Parmesan cheese and some spices.”  
  
Brian raised his eyebrows and licked his lips.  
  
“Color me intrigued. Sure thing. Will you be making them for the entire gang, or what?”  
  
Brian and I started hashing out dinner plans for the Undersiders. As I talked, I let her mind wander back to what had happened earlier. And what I should do about it.  
  
For pretty much the entirety of the date, I had known people were following the two of them. They had been so-so at sneaking, which hadn’t meant all that much when my bugs had instantly pegged them. But they hadn’t done anything. Hadn’t been babbling into an earpiece (not that I could have understood what they were saying, just that they were talking), hadn’t been taking pictures (probably), had barely even talked to each other. And now Brian and I had left them far behind.  
  
I debated if I should bring up the voyeurs. On the one hand, three people following the two of us could mean trouble. On the other hand, although I couldn’t tell who they were, my bugs had told her that they were teenagers. So they probably weren’t a threat, though God only knew why they were following me and Brian.  
  
In fact, now that I thought about it, they were two girls and a guy. And what group did I know that had two girls and a single boy in it? Well, three girls and two boys, counting Brian and me. I was surprised that _anything_ could convince Rachel to come along on a spying mission, but it took absolutely no imagination whatsoever to see Lisa and Alec thinking that was funny. Hell, Alec would probably take risqué photos, first to try and blackmail me, and then masturbate over.  
  
And all of these speculations and plans were much more preferable to what I knew I should be thinking about. If I didn’t want to sever contact with my dad entirely, I supposed I should tell him about… lots of stuff, really. I was dating Brian. No need to tell Dad just how much we were dating, or how we had met. That I had dropped out of school. Sure, I was planning to get a GED, but that still wasn’t the kind of thing Dad would like to hear, even if it had been the best choice open to me.  
  
That was not going to be fun. I still, technically, lived at home, but I spent most of my nights… Okay, I spent most of her nights at Club Lango, stripping and whoring. I spent most of my sleeping time at Lisa’s, or the Undersider’s lair or at Brian’s place. I didn’t come home very often, and talked to my dad even less often.  
  
I felt a familiar twinge of guilt as I thought about it. And I couldn’t put it off any longer, even though I wanted to. Dad would be hearing from the school soon, and if I hadn’t talked to him by then- Well, I figured it was entirely possible I’d be staring at my face on a Missing Person poster. And that would be even worse. And since I was a white girl, there was a chance the BBPD would actually try to find me. Hardly the kind of attention a superhero posing as a supervillain needed.  
  
I sighed. The weekend was coming up. Maybe I and Brian could go to my home then and talk things over with my dad. Or have a nasty, bitter argument. God, this wasn’t going to be fun.  
  
Brian picked up on my souring mood. He gave me a friendly squeeze, pressing me against him more firmly.  
  
“Everything alright, Taylor?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine.” I cast around for another topic of conversation. “Has Lisa figured out what that gun we looted from the arms deal does yet?”  
  
Brian snorted, white teeth briefly gleaming against his dark face.  
  
“Not as of this morning. If her power doesn’t start coughing up info soon, who knows what she’ll do.” I smiled. But Brian wasn’t done yet. “I’m pretty sure she’s at the point where she’s willing to buy a kitten, buy a real gun, and shoot the dog twice.”  
  
“I’m still surprised she’s just been using her power on it for so long,” I said. “It’s a gun, there’s a trigger.”  
  
Brian shook his head, still grinning.  
  
“You watch one video about some idiot losing their hand to a piece of Tinkertech and suddenly you get a yellow streak. How sad,” he said in an overly sincere tone.  
  
We both looked at each other for a moment before breaking out in laughter. It was surprisingly fun to gossip about someone behind their back.  
  
“Listen, is there anything else you want to do after picking up the ingredients, or should we head back?”  
  
Brian mulled the question over as the two of us walked together companionably. I would go along with whatever he wanted. Even, especially, if what he wanted was for me to give him a blowjob in public, or to take a bus and let him grope me while pretending nothing was going on. That could be really fun. And as we walked along, him considering my question, and I in my sexual daydream, an odd game of mental association took my mind back to some other ‘companions’ I had known.

***

  
I had seen her while dancing. It was hard to miss her, really. She was a huge woman, who looked like what Rachel probably would once she finished growing. Thick muscles along her bare arms, a neck thicker than my thighs, the kind of body type I normally associated with body builders who lifted weights with one hand and chugged steroids with the other.  
  
And she had bought my services for the night. It was a good thing I didn’t have anything planned for tomorrow, because I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to walk after she was done with me.  
  
I knocked on the door, and waited for her to open it. I tugged at what was laughingly called my costume, in a futile effort to cover enough of me to keep warm. I’d be hot enough pretty soon, but it was still chilly out here in the corridor.  
  
I wasn’t wearing a sexy costume. Or rather, I was, but I wasn’t wearing a Sexy Costume. I wasn’t dressed up as a slutty nurse or a sexy cheerleader or anything like that. I just had on some colored scraps of fabric that barely supported my breasts and didn’t keep me warm at all.  
  
The door opened and I smiled at my client. The expression she gave back was halfway between a smile and a scowl. I wondered if all really buff women were sourpusses, or if I was drawing from a too small sample size.  
  
She wasn’t wearing much more in the way of clothes than I was. Her ripped arms glistened in the dim light, and I was sure she was just as muscular underneath the tight-fitting tank top she wore. Actually, it was more of a sports bra with ambition than a tank top. It showed off her abs, all three dozen of them. Her miniskirt was maybe twice the size of mine, which would still have gotten her arrested on a public obscenity charge if she wore it during the day.  
  
I had to say, she was still hot. And not just because of her muscles, which honestly passed beyond attractive and into worrisome. Her breasts were almost as big as mine, though a lot better proportioned on her large shoulders. And her face had a lot more beauty to it than Rachel did. She had a kind of hard-worn grace to her features, as if her natural attractiveness had been worn down and then built back up by her exercise. She was, by far, the biggest Asian woman I’d ever seen.  
  
I wasn’t a small girl, but I thought she could pick me up, bend me in two and use a strap-on to leave me drooling, without my feet ever touching the floor. She was a _big woman_ , even bigger than Brian. It was kind of intimidating, and kind of hot. (I hoped I wasn’t fucked up enough that she was hot _because_ she was intimidating.)  
  
“Hello, Ms. Dawson Jones!” And if that was her real name, I was a ballerina. “You ordered the After-Party Dance?”  
  
“Yeah.” She hesitated in the doorway for a minute. “Come on in.” She had a very deep voice, almost masculine. It fit her.  
  
I followed her in, throwing a quick glance around the room to confirm what my bugs had already told. She hadn’t brought any props with her. Or, according to a story Cindy had told me, had a case full of knives open on the bed. I wasn’t sure if that had actually happened or if my friend was just trying to wind me up. Either way, it was a salutary reminder of the kind of people we could be expected to work with.  
  
In fact, this room was too small to have a bed. It was barely big enough to even be called a room, instead of a booth. There was a reinforced chair, a keypad beneath the speaker next to the chair, a crappy abstract painting on one wall, and that was it. Then I took a closer look at the painting.  
  
Oh Lord, that wasn’t art. Quickly turned my head, I smiled at the customer. She was a head taller than me, and her shirt was almost as tight as mine. If she wanted a hug, my face would be buried in her breasts. This time my smile was more genuine. There would be worse ways to go.  
  
“Do you have a preference in music?” I asked, opening up the club’s music selection.  
  
“Nah. It’s all the same anyway,” she said, settling into the chair. She already had her legs spread apart. With her miniskirt, I could almost tell what kind of underwear she was wearing.  
  
I gave her another smile and turned back to the keyboard. Mentally shrugging, I queued up a playlist of the club’s most popular tracks. I shared her opinion on the music, but the beat still made it easier to dance to.  
  
As the first repetitive thrums came over the speaker, I turned back to Ms. Dawson. I started swaying from side to side as I walked back over to her. That took all of three steps and five seconds, even making sure I shook my hips twice for every step.  
  
My costume was designed to be easy to remove. Even if it hadn’t, it was so cheap and flimsy that it could tear just by thinking about it. My transparent miniskirt fell to the floor, which revealed maybe five square centimeters of skin. My crotch was still barely hidden by a black thong.  
  
I let my fingers play with the straps resting on my hips, but didn’t actually pull it off of me. I was still playing with them when I sat down on Ms. Dawson’s lap, straddling her thighs. I gave her yet another smile as I lowered myself down until I was pressed against her bare legs.  
  
I raised my arms above my head and started shifting in time to the music. I could feel the heat radiating off of her. She was pretty damn hot, and not just for people who liked extremely muscular women. Her entire body was warm to the touch. And, even better, her skin was right in the sweet spot where it was enjoyable to press against but not painful. I might be moving to the full-on grinding earlier than usual.  
  
I made sure to move around enough so that my breasts would move even more. And it wasn’t as if my bra was keeping them enclosed. My top was more a bit of decorative artwork laid over my breasts, rather than anything that could conceal or support them. It did nothing to stop them from bouncing all over the place. In fact, it was flimsy enough I had a special trick planned for when it came time to go topless.  
  
But that wasn’t for a while yet. Right now it was time to let the client enjoy the hot girl dancing in his or her lap. I leaned forward, until my breasts were almost in her face. I searched her face as I did so, trying to get some hints about if she was enjoying herself.  
  
But Ms. Dawson was damnably hard to read. She still had the same tight, almost-a-frown smile that she had when she had opened the door. But she hadn’t told me to do anything different, so presumably she was enjoying what I had to offer.  
  
I ran my hands up and down my body, trying to attract her gaze and draw attention to my curves. And I was still rejoicing in having curves, and probably would be for the next year. It may not have fixed everything wrong with me, but by God, at least I could console myself by showing off cleavage.  
  
And on that note, it was time to get rid of the cleavage, and show off my bare breasts. And _that_ meant it was time for my trick. I started breathing deeper and deeper as I leaned back, letting Ms. Dawson get a good look at my chest. I flexed my shoulders in a certain way and took as deep a breath as I could.  
  
And just like that, my top popped off. The blue fabric slid down my torso in two separate pieces, never to be worn again. It felt good to let my girls breathe, freed from the stifling confines of three square inches of fabric.  
  
And it got a smile out of Ms. Dawson. A real smile, not the grimace she had previously been using. Her hands rose up to grab my boobs before she remembered the rules. A flicker of disappointment flashed across her face. But I was willing to make it up to her.  
  
I grabbed my breasts; kneading, almost mauling my heavy orbs. My hands ran over the acres and acres of skin I was showing; lifting them up, massaging them, pressing them together. I even lifted my nipples into my mouth and gave them a good hard suck. No milk came, since I had already milked myself a few hours ago. But it still looked hot (and felt good).  
  
Ms. Dawson seemed to agree with me. Our hips were pretty much touching each other, with maybe an inch of space in between. And then I felt something hot and hard pressing against my thong. I looked down, and my mouth fell so far open my nipples popped out.  
  
There was a thick dick poking out from her miniskirt. It wasn’t the biggest I’d seen, but it was still a very respectable size and was already rock hard. I was frozen into stillness, staring at it as the music kept on thumping out a beat.  
  
Finally, Ms. (maybe) Dawson broke the silence. She laughed, a rather hard sound, like rocks grinding against each other. I looked up at her face, trying to regain my composure.  
  
“Yeah, I’m not set up the same as most people. Just keep on dancing, girly. Surely you’ve done this for men before.”  
  
“Yes, it was just a bit of a surprise. Normally its one or the other, you know,” I said, gesturing to her breasts.  
  
I nodded, getting a hold of myself. I resumed the lap dance, grinding myself against her thighs and shaking my body. I tried to get a good look at her cock while keeping my eyes on her face and smiling. Not the easiest trick in the world, but I managed to get enough glimpses to tell that about half of it was poking out of her miniskirt. I could also tell she wasn’t Jewish.  
  
I started playing with my breasts again, teasing my stiff nipples and cupping my orbs. The usual stuff to intrigue someone, really. Then I let my hands wander down my body, into my thong. I started masturbating, rubbing my fingers against my lower lips. I was pretty wet there, though not enough to slide a finger inside myself.  
  
I looked down at Ms. Dawson’s cock. It sure helped spur me on in my masturbation, fueling my fantasies. I wouldn’t want that monster actually inside me, not without plenty of lube, but it sure was nice to touch myself to the _idea_ of it, if that made sense.  
  
Pretty soon, I was wet enough to slide a finger inside me. All the while, I had kept on shaking and thrusting, making sure my various bits moved in a sexy manner. She didn’t mind that much, since she had her cock in one hand and was masturbating to me. I flashed her another smile, and got a smile back.  
  
I was feeling horny, hornier than just a finger or two could solve. And there was the solution, right in front of me. While Ms. Dawson hadn’t paid for the really fun stuff, there were still some grey areas here for me to use.  
  
I withdrew my hand from my crotch. I rested it on her hip, fingers pressing against the denim of her miniskirt. She raised her eyebrows as I smiled at her, slowly moving my hand back and forth.  
  
“Now, remember,” I said, “you’re allowed to look, but not touch.” Not at this level of pay, certainly. “And I can’t touch you either. Of course,” I smirked, and ran my hand along her crotch, feeling the heat of her dick even through her skirt, “I’m touching your clothes right now, not you. Got it?”  
  
“Clear as crystal,” she replied, leaning back and smiling.  
  
I smiled back and shoved my hips forward, until our crotches were grinding against each other. Even through two (thin) layers of clothing, I could feel the hardness and heat of her cock. It felt nice against my pussy, even though I wouldn’t be able to press my thighs together with it between them.  
  
I wondered how well my thong could handle getting wet. I was already smearing grool on it, and I imagined Ms. Dawson would want to cum on it. It might turn completely transparent, letting her see my pussy. At least, see whatever wasn’t covered with cum.  
  
I pressed down and waggled my hips from side to side. Ms. Dawson liked that, and I could see her fingers tighten on the truncated armrests of the chair. Hopefully she wouldn’t get to excited, and squeeze so hard she broke them.  
  
I moved back and forth and side to side, grinding my pussy against her cock. Sure, I slipped up from time to time and my inner thigh, right where it joined my torso, rubbed against her cock. But so what? It was just a honest mistake, that anybody could make.  
  
I leaned forward, so I could get some better leverage. It also meant my bare breasts were pressed against her own chest. That was called docking, wasn’t it? God knows why, but it sure felt nice to feel her surprisingly firm breasts rubbing against my own, softer pair.  
  
It was a bit difficult to coordinate rubbing my chest against hers, while still grinding against her cock. But, compared to some of the moves I could pull off while dancing, it was still as easy as walking and chewing bubblegum.  
  
I was feeling pretty damn good, but it wasn’t my pleasure that was the purpose here. Ms. Dawson had paid a nice chunk of change for me to come up here tonight, and she would deserve her money back if I couldn’t make her cum. And it would be a mark of shame for me, if I somehow failed like this.  
  
I ground against her, feeling her cock in between my thighs, rubbing against my increasingly wet pussy. With every stroke, I could feel her shaft rub against my clit. And boy, did that feel good. Me cumming may not be the goal here, but it was still going to happen.  
  
I raised my hands to play with my breasts, which just so happened to mean that the backs of my hands were pressed against Ms. Dawson’s boobs as well. I could faintly feel her stiff nipples underneath her top, pressing through the fabric.  
  
She had a good amount of endurance. She still hadn’t cum, even after me humping her for several minutes. Nobody could last forever, though. I was sure I’d get splattered with her cum sooner or later. And, judging by the size of the balls I could occasionally feel, she would have a lot of cum to pump onto me. I’d probably have the choice of walking back to the dressing room downstairs with a thick load of cum covering my thighs, lower belly and thong, or of walking back there with a thick load of cum covering my thighs, lower belly and crotch. It would depend if my two pieces of string and a postage stamp stayed on until the end. And I had no idea when that would be. A lot of guys would have cum by now, with this much rubbing against their cocks.  
  
As it happened, her physical stamina was worse than her mental stamina. She muttered out a strangled curse and grabbed my shoulders. I stopped grinding against her, raising my eyebrows. This was well beyond what she was paying for.  
  
“Fuck, I can’t take anymore,” Ms. Dawson bit out. “How much for a go at your pussy?”  
  
I smiled. It was always nice to get that kind of flattery, even if it came wrapped in some other, not so nice implications. I leaned back a bit, letting her get a good long view at my boobs. I named the price, and watched as the emotions washed over her face. Finally, she sighed and nodded.  
  
“Fine, fine, I’ll take it. It will be the only bit of entertainment I get for the month, but I’ll take it. You better be worth it.”  
  
I smiled, reaching down to run my fingertips over her exposed lower head.  
  
“Don’t I look like it? And it will all be yours for the night, very, very soon.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah. Do I pay you, or go back downstairs?”  
  
“Just leave the money on the tab-“ I realized there was no table in this room. “On top of the keyboard.”  
  
Ms. Dawson grunted and pulled a wallet out of somewhere. She fished out a few high-denomination bills and gave them to me. The room was small enough I could just about reach over and drop them on the keyboard. I also flipped the music off. No need to follow the beat now.  
  
I realized I had set myself up for a challenge. This was a thick, long cock, after all. Could I take the entire thing in my pussy? Probably not. Could I give it my best shot? Of course.  
  
I pulled off Ms. Dawson’s miniskirt. She lifted herself up to help me. I raised my eyebrows at her choice of underwear. Not even many of the girls here wore crotchless panties. I wondered if this was an everyday choice of apparel for her, or something she only chose when looking for fun. Well, at least I wouldn’t have to remove them to get fucked by her.  
  
I did remove my thong. It joined the scraps of my top on the floor. And with that, I was ready to do my best to take this thick monster in front of me. This was either going to feel really good, or really bad.  
  
As I was hyping myself up, Ms. Dawson reached up to tug at her top. I had been correct. It really was more of a sports bra than a tight tank top, since she had absolutely nothing on underneath it. Just a large pair of firm breasts, high up on her chest. I gave them an appreciative look. It would probably be really fun to bury my face in those, or to take a nipple in my mouth. Later, though. Right now, it was time to do what would _really_ feel good. For her, and hopefully for me.  
  
I lifted myself up, so I was hovering above Ms. Dawson’s cock. Reaching down, I started masturbating, ensuring I was good and lubed for this. I could feel my arousal running down my fingers and presumably dripping down onto her dick. I didn’t look down, though. I kept my eyes looking at her face. She stared back at me, a tight smile pulling the corners of her lips upward.  
  
By the time I could get three fingers inside me, I decided I was ready. Taking a deep breath, I lowered my hips, brushing against her dick. I could feel it sliding against my inner thighs and then pressing against my labia. I reached down to grab it and hold it in place.  
  
I drew the head against my pussy, coating it in my arousal. I did my best to keep myself as horny, wet and loose as possible. Some of my favorite masturbation scenarios flashed through my head as I slowly ran my hand up and down her dick.  
  
And then I sank down onto it. I went slowly, so very slowly. And it was still almost too intense to handle. Just the head splitting apart my lower lips was a shock. But I kept on slowly going down, letting inch after inch slip into me.  
  
I had rarely felt so stuffed. It felt good, though with a raw edge that could turn to pain pretty quickly. But I kept on going, sinking down until I couldn’t go any further. I could feel the head of her dick nudging against my cervix. Luckily, that was a good sensation for me, and not the deal-breaker it was for some of the girls here.  
  
Looking down, I saw that there was still about half an inch to go. Well, too bad, so sad. Ms. Dawson was as deep inside me as she could go and I could handle. She’d just have to deal with only having ninety percent of her cock inside of me instead of all of it.  
  
And it felt pretty good inside of me. It was splitting me apart in the most wonderful way. My pussy was squeezing down around it, trying to deal with the huge rod splitting it in two. What a lovely, lovely feeling.  
  
I started to go back, feeling her cock slowly slide out of me. As I moved, I felt my stiff, sensitive nipples brush past her breasts. For a second, they caught on her own pair of nipples, making my breasts bob down slightly. Then they passed, and I kept on rising up until only Ms. Dawson’s lower head was still inside me.  
  
I took a deep breath, making my boobs wobble. Then I started sinking back down again, impaling myself on a stranger’s cock once again. How many times had I done this? I couldn’t say. Sometimes it had been good, and I had some lovely orgasms before my client got what they wanted. Sometimes it had been bad, and I had kept my mind on the money I was making.  
  
Thankfully, this was one of the good times. Ms. Dawson was content to (quite literally) sit back and let me do the work. Her strong hands were firmly gripping my hips, but she wasn’t setting the pace. I could go up and down her shaft as quickly or as slowly as I wanted.  
  
And I wanted to take things slow, at least for the first while. A cock this size wasn’t something you could just go ahead and take all in one quick glow. And some people liked the slower thrusting anyway, since it meant more uninterrupted time inside me.  
  
But since Ms. Dawson wasn’t giving me any hints on what felt best, I just went for what I could handle. My pace gradually picked up as I got more familiar with her dick. Soon I was bouncing at a pretty steady pace. It was also making my boobs jiggle all over the place, which was something customers rarely complained about. I would in a few hours, but some pain pills should shut up my lower back.  
  
And I should have a nice glow of orgasm to help. I was feeling the familiar churning in my lower stomach of satisfied lust as I rode Ms. Dawson’s cock. And if I brought my hand down like _this_ -!  
  
Oh yeah. Oh yeah, that was much better. Now my finger was pressing against my clit. I couldn’t keep it there all the time, though. It would just be too much, and I’d be reduced to nothing but a drooling wreck impaled on top of Ms. Dawson’s cock. There was a certain appeal to that, obviously, but it should wait until she was about to cum.  
  
Instead, I only let myself touch myself on the bottom of every stroke. And it still sent a delicious thrill through me every time. I was going to cum soon. But duty reminded me of what I was here for.  
  
“How, how ya feeling?” I gasped out in between strokes. “Is there anything else you want?”  
  
Ms. Dawson shook her head. Then a light came into her eyes and she nodded.  
  
“Yes I do. What do you think of the president’s economic policy in, ah, regards to the situation in Africa?”  
I rolled my eyes and slapped her shoulder. She laughed, a surprisingly high-pitched tone. She looked unbearably satisfied with herself. Some people, I swear.  
  
I kept on riding her while trying to think of a way to get back at her. Nothing came to mind, especially nothing that would let me keep getting fucked by her. Well, maybe having more orgasms than her, but that would be, uh, quite the unusual form of revenge.  
  
I started playing with Ms. Dawson’s breasts. I only had one hand free but that was enough. I cupped her left breast in my hand, rubbing my thumb against her nipple. It was smaller than mine, but just as stiff. She closed her eyes and her smile got a bit less tight as I drew my thumb in a circle around it. She even made a soft hissing sound as I played with her chest, which was probably as much as I was going to get until she came.  
  
I, on the other hand, was much less restrained about the noises I was making. A steady stream of gasps, grunts and groans escaped my lips as I rocked back and forth on Ms. Dawson’s dick. Some of it was because I honestly felt good. And another part of it was to encourage the client that they were making me feel good and were skilled at fucking.  
  
For the same reason, I loudly announced when I was cumming. Even as my pussy squeezed down on her dick, I closed my eyes and threw my head back.  
  
“Oh! Oh! I’m cumming! I’m cummiiinnnggg!”  
  
Somewhat over the top, I’ll admit, but some customers needed an inordinate amount of effort to tell. And then I could shut up and enjoy the feeling of an orgasm washing through me. And it felt nice. A warm, almost hot glow rushing through me from my head to my toes, making me tense up and then relax.  
  
It was a good orgasm. I had had better, but I still felt nicely satisfied as the lust bubbled back down, leaving me filled with a warm glow. I could feel my liquid arousal slowly seeping out of me, escaping through the imperfect seal of Ms. Dawson’s dick and my pussy.  
  
I had slumped forward, my head almost in between Ms. Dawson’s tits. I had also stopped riding her, instead just sitting on her lap, impaled on her cock. I took a few seconds to catch my breath, and then slowly started lifting myself up and down again. I wondered how long it would take for her to cum, and if I would get another orgasm in before it happened.  
  
Well, I’d never know if I didn’t try. I started getting back into the swing of things, rising up and falling down, feeling a stranger’s thick cock filling my pussy. This time, I didn’t rub my clit. It would just be too sensitive, so soon after. Instead, I used both hands to play with her breasts.  
  
Ms. Dawson was surprisingly content to just let me do my thing. The stereotype at the club was that there were two kinds of heavily muscled clients. The first type was someone who would take charge and fuck you so hard the bed broke. The second was somebody with the soul of a mouse in the body of a lion: someone who needed a dominant to tell them what to do and when to do it.  
  
It was kind of weird to meet someone who was utterly passive. Damnit, I wanted to be wrapped up in those arms and manhandled! Brian knew how to show me a good time, pinning me down to the bed (or couch, table, floor, whatever) and pounding into me until I melted around his cock. Why couldn’t a lady who was even more muscled than him do the same?  
  
But it wouldn’t be a good idea to rag on a client about their lovemaking skills. That kind of thing tended to offend. So I just kept my mouth shut and rode Ms. Dawson. At least I could enjoy her thick dick stretching me out and her firm boobs in my hands.  
  
I leaned in for a kiss, pressing my lips against Ms. Dawson’s. She kissed back, tongue flicking out from between her lips to press against mine. Her hands rose from her hips to wrap around my upper back and shoulders, keeping me pressed close against her. Finally, some action.  
  
I was more aggressive than her, pushing my tongue into her mouth. She let me do so and we kept on kissing for a while. Eventually I had to break for some breath, and I sat back. A smile was tugging at my face. Kissing always felt nice. Admittedly, it was less physically pleasing than getting dicked, and the real pleasure came from when I kissed someone I cared about, like Brian or Lisa. But even kissing a stranger could be enjoyable.  
  
Ms. Dawson apparently thought it was more than enjoyable. I could feel her dick twitch inside of me. And let me tell you, that was quite the feeling, since I was already stuffed with her cock. Then she twitched again, and I knew what was about to happen next.  
  
“Cumming,” she bit out, eyes closed and teeth clenched. “I’m cumming.”  
  
I shifted my hips from side to side. No way was I going to lift them up and miss out on having her cum shot as deep inside me as I could. Her hands tightened on my shoulders, holding me in place as her entire body spasmed. And then she came.  
  
She was really backed up. Ms. Dawson just kept on cumming and cumming. Her dick was already filling up most of my pussy, and her cum quickly filled up what was left. And she still kept on cumming. Semen was forced out of me, running out of the thin gap between her dick and my walls.  
  
And it felt good. I could feel the hot, sticky, thick cum getting pumped into me, covering every inch of my walls with white cum. I was so glad that Provofil meant I couldn’t get pregnant. I’d hate to have to use a condom and miss out on this feeling.  
  
It took her a long while to finish cumming. I was left feeling absolutely stuffed at the end, with both cock and cum. I patted my lower belly, feeling the warm glow of hot cum inside my pussy.  
  
Ms. Dawson leaned back in her char and sighed. A brief look of contentment flashed across her face, her tense, scowling features relaxing for a few seconds. Then the scowl of neutrality I was already getting used to reappeared.  
  
“That was fun. Thanks, girl,” I made a show of preening under the compliment, swishing my hair and sighing. It didn’t get a laugh. “Now I just need you to clean up.”  
  
There was a box of tissues underneath the chair, but I doubted that was what she meant. I slowly climbed off of her, feeling some pleasant twinges in my lower belly as her softening dick slipped out of me. I held a hand underneath me, feeling more cum slide out of me now that the way was clear.  
  
Keeping my eyes locked with Ms. Dawson’s, I held up my cum covered hand. Getting a slight nod, I started licking it clean. I’d done this often enough to know how to put on a good show. My tongue slid over, around and in between my fingers. I made appreciative sounds as I licked up her cum. And it wasn’t all just for show. She obviously had a lot of fruit in her diet.  
  
Finally, I had my fingers clean, shining in the dim light. And there was a load of cum settling in my stomach, not all that far away from the cum shot into my pussy. But the sexy clean-up (as opposed to the actual, efficient, clean-up) still wasn’t done.  
  
I sank to my knees in front of Ms. Dawson, who obligingly spread her legs. I shuffled forward in between them, sandwiched by her muscular thighs. Her soft cock was right in front of my nose. Despite no longer being hard, it was still an impressive tool. And it was stained with her cum and my arousal.  
  
I leaned forward and opened my mouth. There was no need for foreplay here. I didn’t waste time kissing my way up and down her shaft or giving dainty licks around her head. Instead, I just put her dick in my mouth and started sucking. And that should be enough. I looked up at her as my lips were wrapped around her dick. She looked back, watching the whore she had paid for lick her clean.  
  
I ran my tongue over the shaft inside my mouth, scouring every inch of it. The mingled taste of her cum and my honey filled my mouth. And I liked it. Not exactly sweet, not exactly sour but something nicely in between.  
  
It took longer to clean her cock than it did to clean my fingers but I finished soon enough. Her dick didn’t get hard again, which was kind of surprising. Usually a blowjob could get at least a twitch or two out of somebody.  
  
I drew my head back and looked over Ms. Dawson’s cock. I nodded in satisfaction. It was as clean as it was going to get. I reached underneath her and grabbed the box of tissues. I cleaned her off, dropping wadded up balls on the floor as I got my drool off of her. Finally, I was all done.  
  
Standing, I gave her a big smile, that was even partly sincere. I extended my hand, which she grabbed to haul herself up.  
  
“How are you feeling, miss?” I asked, handing her her clothes.  
  
“Pretty good,” she answered. “Not sure I can afford to make this a habitat, though.”  
  
I shrugged. I also smirked as her eyes flicked downwards to my chest.  
  
“Not many people can. But if you ever want the best, come back here.”  
  
Ms. Dawson snorted. But she didn’t actually call me out on that, so I took it as a win.  
  
I waved her goodbye, and watched her leave. I sat down on the seat she had just vacated with a sigh. Reaching over, I grabbed the clip of bills she was paying with. I tossed it up and down, waiting for a bit. My bugs were telling me that if I made a run for the changing room right now, I’d get seen by at least three people. And since my clothes (or ‘clothes’) had been destroyed during the session, I’d be going naked.  
  
Rather than give people a free show, I could just wait a bit. Clean up, me and the room, feel the aftershocks of orgasm slowly trickle out of me, that sort of thing. Oh yes, and decided if I was going to hand over Club Lango’s share of the extra money I had gotten from Ms. Dawson.  
  
I wondered if I was going to see another client tonight. And if I would, who it would be. Hopefully someone more active, but less well endowed than Ms. Dawson. A pussy to play with might be fun.  
  
The way was clear. I tossed the cum-stained tissue into the trash and headed to the door. Time to see how many people were going to get a show.  
  
Just another night at Club Lango.  


* * *

  
  
  
Greg’s hands were trembling. Heck, his entire body was trembling. He couldn’t believe what he had stumbled onto. He, he, he, he wasn’t sure what to do. Gather more evidence? Confront them? Call the police? Call the Protectorate? He wasn’t sure, but he knew he had to do something.  
  
Greg wasn’t sure just what he had stumbled onto, but he knew it was bad. Obviously that black guy was forcing Taylor to have sex with him. Maybe he had even forced Greg’s angel of loveliness to go dance at that strip club. Greg didn’t know how deep this went, but he knew he had to save Taylor from her peril.  
  
That was why he had trailed Emma and Sophia as they trailed Taylor and the black man. He had almost lost them a couple of times as the two duos outpaced him, Emma and Sophia just straight up vanishing at times. But he had at least gotten lucky enough to watch Taylor be forced to flirt with her kidnapper at that restaurant.  
  
And then it had gotten so much worse. Greg had followed them to a park, forced to circle around and crawl into the bushes on the opposite side from Sophia and Emma. And then he had been forced to watch as Taylor was raped again and again by the big black man.  
  
Greg had to admit he had a shameful erection from that. He knew he shouldn’t have enjoyed the sight of Taylor’s beautiful, naked body like that; not when she was getting despoiled by some over-muscled brute. But the way her breasts had swung around as she was made to impale herself again and again on his cock had made Greg’s own dick as hard as a rock.  
  
He had barely been able to keep himself from masturbating as he had watched the two of them. Not even the strong sense of shame he felt had been enough to keep himself soft. Some of the time had been spent imagining it was him with Taylor. His hands fondling her soft skin, squeezing her breasts and making her moan.  
  
Greg’s walk was a bit hunched over as he got another erection. He avoided the gaze of the few other pedestrians on the nearly-empty street. He needed, pretty badly, to masturbate. Only the thought of saving Taylor kept him from doing something really freaky like popping into an alleyway to masturbate.  
  
As he walked along, Greg tried to focus. He knew he should be considering ways to rescue Taylor. Sadly, visions of what he had just seen kept on intruding. He could still hear Taylor’s moans as she was made to bounce up and down on the black man’s penis.  
  
She had been forced to crawl on top of him and ride him like a harlot, all while Greg was forced to watch his angel get despoiled like that. It had been awful, watching her huge breasts sway in the open air like that, and listening to her cries as she was viciously raped.  
  
Greg still wasn’t sure why the rapist had let Taylor get on top of him. That wasn’t a very dominant position, and weren’t rapists all about power? Then it came to him. The black guy was a _Master_. He could force Greg’s precious Taylor into any position he wanted, and they would _all_ be submissive, because Taylor didn’t have a choice in the matter.  
  
It was kind of weird, Greg had to admit. The black guy looked like he had more muscles in his finger than Greg’s entire body. But weren’t Masters all supposed to be sickly, deformed creeps who relied on forcing other people to do who their withered bodies couldn’t? Whereas this guy looked like a Brute. The kind of Brute who obviously looked like a Brute, at least. Not the kind of Brute who looked like a preteen waif but who could lay out a bodybuilder.  
  
So if he was a Master, what should Greg do? The obvious, logical choice was to call the Protectorate or PRT and tell them about him. But what about Taylor. Greg couldn’t bear the thought of his (girl)friend Taylor being forced to recount how she had been raped time and time again by the man.  
  
So it was up to Greg to save Taylor. But how? He didn’t have any superpowers, and didn’t have the money to buy any from the people who sold them online. Assuming what they sold actually worked. And Greg had to admit that even if the Master’s powers only worked on women, he would still be able to beat Greg up with one hand behind his back. Or maybe have his army of nubile, scantily-dressed amazons defeat Greg.  
  
Greg realized he was licking his lips and staring into space. Shaking his head, he tried to focus. He sat down on a bench and rubbed his forehead, trying to think. Bring a gun to the confrontation? Greg didn’t have a gun, and didn’t know how to find one, but it sure would be a great equalizer if he had one. And it would surely be easy to use. Just point and shoot, right?  
  
But not having a gun was still a big problem, one that Greg just didn’t know how to overcome. And if he didn’t have a gun, didn’t have powers, and couldn’t beat the man, whoever he was, in a fair fight, what could he do? Giving up, obviously, was out of the question. He couldn’t leave Taylor at the mercy of the monster’s depraved whims, her body, and maybe even her mind, forced to do unspeakable things for his amusement.  
  
Maybe he could rescue Taylor out from underneath the Master’s nose. If she was still working at the club (Greg’s cheeks turned a rosy red at the thought), maybe one night when she was dancing, Greg could sneak her out of there. Hide her in the basement at home, where the Master would be sure not to find her. The trouble would be if she had been bewitched to not _want_ to be rescued. On the other hand, Greg was sure what masculine strength he had should be enough to keep her safe from herself, at least until Taylor came back to her sense.  
  
Greg smiled at the thought of how Taylor would be sure to reward her rescuer when that happened. Maybe he’d even get to touch his first breast. And Taylor’s breasts would be enough to last him a long, long time, even just as a memory. Greg still couldn’t forget how they had moved, up there on the stage that night he had gotten into Club Lango.  
  
And another memory of that poured a bucket of cold water on Greg’s enthusiasm. He also remembered the size of the bouncer there. That guy had been built like a shaved bear, the ceiling barely big enough to let him hold his head up. Greg just couldn’t see how he could sneak Taylor out of there under the eyes of that guy.  
  
And what if the bouncer, or the other girls at the club had been Mastered too? That’s what Greg would have done. If he was some kind of despicable kidnapper/rapist/mind-controller, he’d only let his slaves go to some place he already had control over. There was no way Greg could fight off or out run an entire club full of people. So that plan was gone. Which left precious, precious little left.  
  
Sighing heavily, Greg slumped downwards. He pulled out his phone and stared blankly at it, mind churning as he considered what to say. How could he make the Protectorate understand the urgency of the situation? Understand that Taylor was in grave danger, and that the Master needed to be stopped? But at the same time, make sure that the heroes didn’t ask Taylor a bunch of questions like how often she had been forced to have sex with the guy.  
  
Greg kept on spinning and fiddling with his phone as he struggled with that question. But he knew he had to make the call. After all, he was going to be the hero who saved Taylor. No question about it.  


**The Non-canon Omake: The Continuation**

  
Amy looked up at the bright, flickering sign of Club Lango. She thought this was a bad idea. She had thought it was a bad idea when Vicky had proposed it, she had thought it was a bad idea on the flight over here, and she would probably still be thinking this was a bad idea even when the dust settled. But it was just so hard to say no to Victoria when she wanted something.  
  
So the two of them were here. Amy had held out for telling Mom and Dad, and conducting a New Wave raid on the place. There was no way two supervillains could hope to fight against eight heroes. But Vicky didn’t want to admit how the two of them had discovered that Tattletale and Skitter were here.  
  
So, Victoria and Amy were coming back, to try and do this discreetly. Because discrete was the word Amy would use to describe Glory Girl, the invincible, flying brick who could make an entire room collapse in sheer, pants-wetting terror.  
  
Victoria had tried, kind of, to disguise herself. But when she refused to cut or dye her long blonde hair, there was only so much that could be done. A raid through their dad’s closet had finally turned up an old trucker cap and a jacket with a high collar. The two of them had managed to get Vicky’s hair hidden between the two pieces of clothing, but it made Vicky look like a walking fashion crime. She was much too classically beautiful to really pull off the grunge look, and her attempts weren’t helped by her sticking with her usual makeup choices.  
  
Victoria was drawing less attention than she would as Glory Girl, but that was about all that could be said for her disguise. Amy had ended up somewhat better hidden. It helped that she was less pretty than her sister, so she tended to get interviewed by newspapers and magazines, instead of podcasts and television reporters. As such, her face wasn’t plastered on at least one screen every week.  
  
Therefore, Amy felt safe just wearing her usual day to day clothing. Without her red and white healer robes, nobody should be connecting her with Panacea. The bouncer certainly didn’t. He waved the two of them in without even having to pay a cover fee. Any cover fee beyond the leering at Victoria at least. Amy sighed and rolled her eyes. While her sister would say that it was a compliment, her inner beauty shining through the layers of her disguise, Amy thought it was just a creep perving on anyone young and female.  
  
And she would have thought a bouncer working at a strip club would have his fill of young, scantily dressed women. It wasn’t even as if Vicky was showing any skin. She had realized that her preferred tight, short skirts really wouldn’t go well with the grunge look her upper body was sporting. And with her hands buried in her pockets, the only bit of Amy’s (hot, hot, hot) sister on display was her face.  
  
Amy was almost bowled over backwards by the roar of sound. At least it was a good excuse to grab onto Victoria’s arm, holding herself close to her sister. The club was already pretty packed. And just like last time, there was a fair selection of girls scattered around the place.  
  
Amy was a bit confused on that, until she overheard a conversation being shouted right next to her. Apparently, there was an Amateur’s Night contest on. Again. How many times in a week did this club do that?  
  
And that probably meant their targets wouldn’t be showing up, not if there would be a collection of pratfalls and jokers up on stage tonight. Amy frowned and tugged at Vicky’s arm as her sister led the two of them into a relatively quiet corner. Amy still had to shout directly into her ear, though.  
  
“I don’t think we’re going to-“ a pause for breath, then the shouting resumed, “going to find them here tonight. Not on the stage.” Amy’s voice was starting to get hoarse. “Try to sneak in back?”  
  
Both of them looked at the door that led backstage. There was a shaved, scarred bear standing in front of it, arms crossed and glaring at the crowd. Vicky shook her head and shouted back. Normally Amy would enjoy the thought of her sister’s lips against her ear, saying sweet things. But she thought her eardrums were about to burst.  
  
“No good. Have an idea! I got offered a contract last time. I’ll join the contest again, and win. Say I want to talk to some of the girls before I take the job.”  
  
Amy was okay with that idea. Especially the bit where she got to see her sister naked again. And hopefully Victoria had worn some cute underwear today too. It was a pity that the rest of the club would _also_ get to see her naked, but that was a price Amy was willing to pay. She nodded her agreement and gave a thumbs up. She’d be saving her breath to whistle once Victoria appeared on the stage.  
  
Vicky disappeared into the press, fighting her way to the bar to sign up. Amy, meanwhile, looked for a place to sit down. Somewhere close enough to the stage to get a good long loo, but far enough away Vicky wouldn’t see her drooling. She also kept an open eye out for ‘Tawnee’ and ‘Sara’, just in case they were on the floor. Amy would gladly forgo getting to watch Victoria strip if it meant capturing those two nasty, arrogant bitches.  
  
Amy was still brooding over the defeat at the bank when Victoria reappeared. Amy rolled her eyes at the drinks Vicky was carrying, but still took one. She took a drink of the sweet, flavorful drink as Victoria sat down next to her, almost shoulder to shoulder.  
  
“Bad news, Ames,” Victoria said as she took a much smaller sip from her own drink, nudging the umbrella out of the way. “Since I won last time, I can’t do it again.”  
  
Amy frowned, almost pouted at the news. That pretty much sunk their plans. Maybe they could check the register and try to hire their targets, but both Amy and Victoria’s funds were running pretty low. And Victoria’s pocket money must have just taken another hit, buying those overpriced drinks.  
  
“So what now?” Amy shouted, taking the chance to wiggle closer to Victoria.  
  
Victoria didn’t answer, and just started at Amy, raising her eyebrows. Amy stared blankly back at her for a minute before the penny dropped.  
  
“Oh no. No, no, no, no, I’m not doing that Victoria. Think of something else, okay? There’s no way in hell I’d do that.”  


*******

“Next up is contestant number seven, Emily Wilkshire! Let’s all give her a big hand, folks!”  
  
Amy’s face was as red as a tomato as she walked on stage. That was her. She was about to do this. _Why_? _How?_ Her mind was much too occupied to remember how Victoria had talked her into this. All she could remember were some deep, soulful green eyes staring into hers while Amy stammered and stuttered. One instant there, and the next here, it seemed, walking towards the pole at the end of the catwalk.  
  
Amy really hoped that Vicky had promised her something awesome for doing this. And that her sister would uphold her end of the deal on her own, because Amy didn’t have a prayer of remembering what it could be.  
  
Amy reached the end of the catwalk and stared out over the packed club. Most of them, far too many, were looking at her. She couldn’t see beyond the first few rows, not with the bright lights set up at the edge of the stage. But even the two dozen upturned faces were still enough to make her want to run far, far away.  
  
Amy swallowed nervously and waited for the music to start. At least she couldn’t do worse than some of the girls who had preceded her. She had gotten enough combat training that there was no chance that she would fall off the stage after getting tangled up in her own clothing, for instance.  
  
If Amy had to do this, and it seemed she did, she wished she had worn some sexier clothing. What she had on just wouldn’t cut it. Not unless somebody _really_ liked the quiet, bookish sort. Amy had dressed up a _bit_ , because she was going out in public, but all of her actually nice clothes (and both of her two sexy dresses) were hanging on their racks back home. She was just wearing a dark green blouse and a pair of black jeans. They weren’t even tight jeans to show off the legs she really didn’t have. And her underwear wasn’t even matching, because she hadn’t thought there was the remotest chance anybody besides herself would see a stich of it.  
  
And now the music was starting, and it was time for Amy to get dancing. God, she hoped this ended up working out. Capturing Tattletale and Skitter would be enough to make tonight worthwhile, barely.  
  
Buoyed by that cheering note, Amy started dancing. She wished she had payed more attention to Victoria dancing last time. Or at least, paid attention to the actual moves Victoria had done. Her memories of that night were a pleasant though indistinct gold and pink glow.  
  
Or if she hadn’t paid close enough attention to Victoria, Amy might have at least not skipped past those first ten minutes on the lesbian porn videos she sometimes watched. Who would have ever thought the filler of the two porn stars dancing would ever have been more useful than watching them sixty-nine?  
  
Amy grabbed the bottom of her top and raised it a few inches. Barely enough to show any kind of skin, but at least it was a start. She took several deep breaths, almost panting really. It made her chest jiggle a bit, not that that had been her plan. It still got a scattered clap or two.  
  
Most of the crowd, however, was waiting for something more meaningful than a quick boob jiggle and two square inches of skin. A wave of silence washed over Amy. She really wanted to just turn tail and run off the stage, like a couple of girls already had. But she couldn’t. This was their best chance to catch the two supervillains.  
  
And so, in one quick movement, Amy tore off her blouse. She held it in one hand as she stared out over the crowd. Her face was locked in a contorted smile as she gave a whole body shimmer, trying to look good. That got a lot more applause.  
  
Amy could feel the cold air from the air conditioner directly above her washing over her. And it really was chilly, standing here in her jeans and a blue and white bra. It gave her a push to start dancing again, to try and warm up.  
  
Amy turned back to the pole and wrapped her hands around it. It was cold in that special, unpleasant way metal could be. She pushed forward, spinning around the pole in a half circle before landing. Her knees sagged beneath her, and Amy did her best to incorporate that as a move, throwing her hands up in the air, away from her sides.  
  
Amy did her best to listen to the crowd, trying to pick out Victoria’s voice from among the ocean of sound. She was sure her sister was cheering her on, out of platonic support, if nothing else. Amy would have preferred _something_ else, but she’d take what she could get. And right now, that was the thought of her sister yelling her head off as she watched Amy strip.  
  
God, Amy hoped those two were working tonight.  
  
Shaking off her thoughts, Amy started plucking at her bra. It was easy enough to remove, which was one of the reasons she had picked it this morning, but she wasn’t sure if it _sexy_ to remove. Sure, bare breasts were hotter than covered breasts, but Amy wasn’t sure how to seductively slip off her bra.  
  
She did her best, though, undoing the clasp and tugging at her shoulder straps. There was a bad moment when her arms got tangled up in it, but the crowd seemed to think that she was just teasing them instead of being incompetent.  
  
Amy mechanically played with her breasts, feeling none of the twinges of lust and arousal that she normally would. It was just hands moving over meat. She tried to think of something sexy, to add a touch of realism to her actions.  
  
Victoria was the first thing that came to mind, obviously. Amy pictured her sister wearing a set of lingerie, gold and black encasing her body. That helped. Then she imagined Victoria blowing her a kiss, which was even better. Amy felt lust finally start to stir in her stomach, mixing with the dread and nervousness already there.  
  
Thus encouraged, Amy started to tug at her jeans. They were loose enough to come off easily, nothing like the painted on pair Vicky had that Mom didn’t know about. Amy hopped out of them, standing in front of what had to be hundreds and hundreds of people wearing nothing more her panties. She had had dreams like this. And they hadn’t been good dreams.  
  
But Amy kept on dancing. She swayed from side to side, imitating a hula dance, complete with waving arms. She kept her gaze firmly raised, not looking at any one in particular. The one person she wanted to look at wasn’t visible.  
  
Amy was well aware that there was only one thing left for her to remove. And it was the most important part, really. Quite a few of the other girls hadn’t stripped off their panties, and Amy wished she could do the same. But if she wanted to be sure to win this competition, she would have to give it her all. And that meant getting naked in front of the crowd.  
  
Putting the moment off, Amy grabbed the pole behind her. She wrapped one leg around it, and then realized she didn’t have the slightest clue what to do next. She had seen what some of the dancers had done, climbing to the top of the pole and all, but Amy didn’t have the strength to do that.  
  
Instead, she went around to the other side of it, so she was facing the main room. Then Amy pressed her body against it, her modest breasts going on either side of the clammy pole. She slid up and down it, trying not to wince. Her power was telling her far too much about how often the pole got cleaned. At least she was killing all the bacteria and viruses on her way down.  
  
Amy bobbed up and down once or twice, before coming back around in a little twirl. Spreading her legs, she hooked her thumbs in the side straps of her panties. She took a deep breath as she ran her hands along the perimeter of her underwear. She could do this. Amy could give the best show out of anyone here tonight, win the contest, and then she and Victoria could nab the supervillains.  
  
Amy pulled down her panties, feeling the cotton slide over her thighs. She was almost rocked back on her heels by the storm of applause. She was pretty sure she could hear Vicky’s voice in the midst of the storm of sound. While she could get some encouragement from her sister cheering on, Amy still wished that Vicky would have been cheering out of lust, and not just out of a sense of sisterly support.  
  
Amy had to take what she could get, though. And keep what she had. She cast a glance over the stage to make sure all her clothes were nearby in easy grabbing range. Reassured, she started the finale of her act, even if she had no idea what that would actually be.  
  
Amy wasn’t bold enough or aroused enough to masturbate on stage. In fact, her embarrassment was rapidly mounting as she danced (or ‘danced’) naked on the catwalk of a strip club. In the end, her grand finale was just a shake. A shake of everything, her arms, shoulders, chest, stomach, hips and legs. It got a bit of jiggling going on and that would have to be enough.  
  
Amy grabbed her clothes and hurried off the stage, face burning from far more than exertion. Almost before she got backstage, she was hurriedly dressing, barely even taking the time to make sure her shirt was on the right way.  
  
Amy joined the other contestants. Their faces were nothing but a blur as Amy fought to get herself under control. That was not an experience she wanted to repeat. She was just glad she had given the best performance out there of everybody, so there was no chance of having to _do_ a repeat.  
  
Amy let the conversational sallies a few of the other girls launched die unanswered. She just watched a fat man with a clipboard talk to the somewhat less fat man Amy had talked to to enter this thing. She couldn’t hear them as they talked in low voices, and so sidled closer. It was the first time she had had a reason to use the subterfuge skills everyone in New Wave got in… well, ever, really.  
  
“What a shit show,” one of the men whispered to his comrade. The other one nodded. Amy glared at both of them, not that either looked up to see her. “Why couldn’t Blondie have taken us up last time? She’d have smoked any of these losers.”  
  
His friend agreed again. Amy felt anger starting to run through her. There was no way in hell anybody would want to see these two lardballs up on the stage, so what gave them the right to trash talk Amy? And the other contestants, she supposed.  
  
Amy barely managed to smooth her face out when one of them looked up and took a few steps forward. He cleared his throat and the various would-be dancers (those who hadn’t ran away crying) looked up at him, varying levels of nervousness and anticipation on their faces.  
  
“You all did very good tonight,” he said, in a voice that wasn’t so much sincere as it was loud. “But there can only be one winner of the Club Lango Amateur’s Night Dance-off.” He paused to build the suspense. Amy glared at him behind a tranquil face, urging him to get to the point.  
  
“And tonight’s winner is…” he peered at the clipboard, obviously rereading Amy’s alias. “Emily Wilkshire. Let’s all give her a big hand, folks.” The man clapped his meaty paws together, prompting a scattering of other applause from the rest of the girls and a few hangers-on lounging around. “You did a good job kid. You should feel satisfied.”  
  
Amy was quite satisfied, though not for the reasons the fat man, whatever his name was, would have thought. The first hurdle was cleared. Now for the second, hopefully smaller one. She stepped forward and accepted a sweaty handshake from the man.  
  
As the rest of the girls filed out, some upset, some relieved, some not showing what they felt, Amy and the man started talking. Amy spewed out a bunch of falsehoods, about her address, her age, her phone number, all that sort of thing. The man just kept nodding along, not even looking up as Amy’s victory was announced over the intercom.  
  
Amy kept on acting like becoming a stripper was a dream come true for her. Finally, they got to what she considered the meat of the conversation. The man, who still hadn’t introduced himself, presented Amy with something to sign. She made a show of looking it over, her mind not processing what her eyes were seeing.  
  
“I don’t know,” Amy said slowly. She wasn’t the best actor in the world, but she didn’t have to be. She could just channel what she was feeling. “Could I talk to some of the girls who work here before I make up my mind?”  
  
The man looked at blankly. Amy started to feel nervous, but then he shrugged.  
  
“Fine, fine. I think,” he flipped a page up on his clipboard, “Candy is between rounds right now. I’ll page her, see if she wants to talk to you.”  
  
“Actually,” Amy said quickly, “I was hoping I could to talk to one of the other girls.”  
  
“No,” the man said disinterestedly, looking back down at his clipboard.  
  
“Either Tawnee or Sara,” Amy continued, pretending not to hear the flat note of dismissal. “I met them last night and would prefer them.”  
  
“They ain’t working tonight. Talk to Candy or talk to nobody, your choice.”  
  
Amy barely heard anything past the first sentence. She felt the entire side of her face twitch in a nervous tic. They weren’t working. They weren’t working? THEY WEREN’T WORKING? Amy had done all that for nothing?  
  
Amy fought down vivid fantasies of retribution as she turned away from the man. She walked, practically stalked, through the crowds back to Victoria. Victoria looked up from the crowd, a clear question on her face. And the look on Amy’s face was enough to answer it.  
  
  
Amy saw Victoria slump down in her seat and mutter something. Amy couldn’t hear what it was, but was sure it was one of the collection of swear words Vicky had picked up while patrolling the streets. Nazis were always so inventive with their vocabularies when a blonde-haired, blue-eyed Arian ideal arrested them.  
  
The thought almost made Amy smile as she sat down next to Victoria. She leaned towards her sister. Partly it was for privacy, partly it was because there was no other way for them to hear each other, and partly it was so that Amy could smell Vicky’s perfume instead of the dried sweat and spilled beer that was the usual aroma for the club.  
  
In a few short, terse sentences Amy relayed how she had humiliated herself in front of roughly a hundred strangers for absolutely nothing. Victoria patted her shoulder consolingly, but didn’t offer the full body hug Amy would have gladly accepted.  
  
Victoria took a small pull from her drink as the two of them considered what to do next. Seeing her sister’s alternating downcast and enraged mood, she ruffled Amy’s hair.  
  
“Don’t worry, Ames. We’ll think of something. After all, we always have each other.”  
  
Amy opened her mouth to respond, then stopped. A look of revelation was passing across her sister’s face. Turning to face her sister full on, Victoria excitedly grabbed her hands.  
  
“Amy, I have an idea.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Skitter Stripper Chapter Seven**

**  
**  
“Ah! Ah! Ahhh!”  
  
I slumped forward, my whole body shaking. That had been _intense_. Not only had I cum in the latest orgasm in a string of orgasms that seemed to have lasted forever, I had cum from getting fucked in my ass. That was pretty rare for me. There just wasn’t quite enough nerve endings back there to really make it feel great for me. But the stars had aligned or something, and my rear squeezed down around the dick occupying it.  
  
Rory was speeding up, his hips hitting my ass as he assfucked me. He would be cumming soon, filling my rear with my… I had no idea how many times I had been cummed in tonight. Just the three guys here (and Dean had barely even looked at me) had given me more cum then the entire frat house gangbang I had first met Rory at. Their stamina was incredible. I supposed whatever training they got at the Wards was responsible.  
  
I certainly wasn’t complaining. I was pretty sure that, along with the huge breasts I had gotten from Nuture’s tainting of the drugs, my sex drive had been upped. Most girls would have fainted from exhaustion by now; so would most guys, for that matter. But we were all going strong.  
  
Some of us more than others. Right in front of me, Lisa’s eyes rolled up in the back of her head as she came too. While I had just sagged forward, Lisa’s arms gave out entirely. She fell face forward into the bed as Carlos kept on fucking her through her anal orgasm. And she didn’t get up very quickly either.  
  
Which made sense. If Lisa could only bring herself to have sex when she was drunk, and didn’t like the loss of control she had when being drunk, whenever she _did_ get hammered, she’d have a lot of built-up sexual energy to burn off. It was so nice of Carlos and Rory and Amy and Victoria and Dean and me to give her a chance to cut loose and work out all that arousal. And maybe she’d even come around in the next few minutes so I could tell her that.  
  
My thoughts on the matter were cut off as Rory started filling my already stuffed ass with cum. My fingers curled up in the sheets as I felt jet after jet of hot cum land in my bowels, joining all the other loads of cum in and on me. I closed my eyes and shivered, feeling myself get filled up. There was something nice about getting cum inside me, even if it was a stranger’s and not Brian’s. And I’d be getting the almost as nice feeling of hot cum sliding out of me as soon as he pulled out. There was no end to the pleasures I was getting tonight.  
  
I luxuriated in the feeling of hot cum deep inside me for a minute or two, my lips curled up in a slight smile. When I opened my eyes, it was to a much different sight then I was expecting. Instead of Lisa’s blissed out face right in front of mine, I saw Carlos’s rock hard cock a few feet away from me. Still a nice sight, but I wondered where Lisa went.  
  
Turning my head the slightest degree, I found her. She was crawling over to the trio of Dean, Amy and Victoria. There was cum leaking out of her ass as her hips swayed from side to side. It was a nice sight, just like a lot of things about Lisa were. I knew how lucky I was to have her as a, well, friend, co-worker, fellow gang member and sort-of girlfriend. Getting to appreciate that body, especially when she was wearing that delicious tight Tattletale costume was a pleasure only matched by getting to appreciate Brian’s body when he was in that deliciously tight Grue costume.  
  
While I would enjoy watching whatever it was Lisa was about to do with the incestual lesbian duo and the boyfriend, I had a job of my own to take care of. Maybe five seconds after cumming in Lisa, Carlos was completely erect again. And it was my job to take care of things like that. Rory, at least, was a bit more subdued than his younger friend, so I only had one cock to tend to right now.  
  
Since I wasn’t hugely keen on putting my mouth on something that had just been inside Lisa’s ass, I looked around for something to clean him off with, even though he looked fairly clean already. While I wiped him off, I could see Lisa diving underneath a pillow and coming up with a whole array of sex toys in her hands. My eyebrows rose and Carlos laughed as the three of us watched. Had she hid those under there ahead of time, or had they been knocked underneath the pillow during the energetic fuckings?  
  
Either way, she started going to town on Amy’s pussy. Lisa pinned down Panacea, the famous healer and the woman who would love to see both of us in jail forever, and started fucking her cunt with a dildo. It was pretty hot. Amy’s head was in her sister’s lap as Lisa drew the toy in and out, a small prong near the base rubbing Amy’s clit with every stroke. I noticed that the dildo was getting covered with more and more cum as Lisa drew it in and out of Amy. I wondered how much the superheroine had enjoyed her creampie from her sister’s boyfriend.  
  
I was just starting to suck off Carlos and a newly hard Rory when Victoria called out my stage name. I looked around at her as best I could while still keeping the heads of both Rory and Carlos in my mouth. She was waving at me and Dean. I could see some cum dripping out of her. Not as much cum as I had just gotten, though.  
  
“Hey, how’d you like to switch off?” Her long blonde hair shook as she looked between the two of us. “I get fucked by these studs, and you get to see how awesome Dean is. Sound like a plan?”  
  
I looked over at Dean. He shrugged and nodded. Well, that was what the customer wanted, that would be what the customer would get. And I wouldn’t pass up the chance to try out a new cock. Especially a new superhero cock. I didn’t know who Dean was, and planned to keep it that way. Even though five minutes on the Protectorate website could have told me. I couldn’t see what I’d get from knowing who he was. All that I really needed to care about right now was the size of his cock.  
  
And it was a nice size. It should fill me up nicely, where ever he decided to fuck me. Between my tits, probably. Guys loved to play with them, and it had to be rare for him to a girl with a better rack than Glory Girl’s.  
  
Speaking of which, the hot blonde floated past me, feet several inches above the floor. She smiled at me as I rolled my eyes at her display. Stepping past her, I grabbed Dean’s hand.  
  
“Over here, big boy,” I said, throwing him a bright smile. He smiled in return and obediently followed me as I led him to the chair he and Victoria had started the orgy out in.  
  
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Glory Girl squeezing herself in between Carlos and Rory. Her skin brushed against their hard cocks as she leered at them while they leered at her. It was a pity I wouldn’t have time to watch her get double-teamed. But at least I should be having some fun of my own.  
  
Straddling Dean’s legs, I sank down, trapping his cock between both of our lower bellies. Time to get to work, taking cock for the who knows how many time tonight.

  
  
*******

  
If I had to pick which of my powers, flight, invulnerability, super strength or the emotional aura, I liked best, only one of them was a contender. Flight had to be the best possible ability anyone could have. Better then teleportation, better then having minions, better then anything.  
  
There were so many reasons why. Getting to fly above the city at night was awesome, for one. And for another, it was making me getting fucked by two guys while my boyfriend watched so much easier. Okay, that wasn’t an application for my power that had come up before, but I was really glad for it now!  
  
For most people, it could be kind of difficult for a girl as big as I was to stay sandwiched between two standing guys. Sure, they worked out (and Carlos especially had a nice set of muscles) but I was still a tall girl with broad shoulders, sitting on their dicks. That wasn’t the kind of situation you wanted to have a weak grip in.  
  
Luckily, because of the whole flying thing, there wasn’t even the slightest chance of one of them loosing their grip and letting me fall to the floor, taking some important bits with me. Sure, Carlos could have done some kind of freaky regeneration and turn his extruded small intestine into a dick or something, and Amy was right here in the room. But that still would have been, just slightly, a mood killer.  
  
So it was a good thing I could use my power to pull myself up and down Carlos’s and Rory’s shafts without them having to do a thing, or even putting my hands on Rory’s shoulders to provide leverage. Just flex the mental muscle that could send me through a corkscrew and a barrel roll to do the much easier job of lifting me up and down on the two thick cocks inside me. _Lots_ easier then some of the aerial acrobatics I had done.  
  
Well, soon I’d have two thick cocks inside me. Right now I just had the one. And, to be fair, Carlos felt pretty good inside my ass! The way he was stretching me out, pushing apart the walls of my comparatively untouched rear were _very_ interesting. I just thought that it would feel even better once Rory got done rubbing his cock against my soaked lower lips actually started fucking me.  
  
Trying to ignore the teasing going on down between my legs, I looked around the room. I saw Sara taking Amy doggy style and kept right on moving. If Amy needed help, she’d tell me. Until then, I wasn’t going to be some kind of creepy perv and watch her have sex.  
  
Luckily, there was another duo in the room, and I had just a close emotional connection to one of them as I did to my sister. Dean was leaning back in the chair, letting the majorly hot Tawnee do the work. She was on her knees in front of him, giving him a titjob.  
  
I could overhear her talking to Dean. As she bobbed up and down, wrapping those fat pillows around my boytoy’s toy, she was using her mouth the second best way that she could. The words she was using to describe herself, well, I’d have slapped the snot out of anyone who talked to me like that. But hearing Tawnee describe herself like that was really hot. I made a mental note to have some one on one time with her if she had the stamina. It would be fun to listen to her degrade herself while I played with those jugs.  
  
I had to admit, I was kind of jealous at how big her boobs were. Sure, they probably gave _her_ back pain, but _I_ had super strength had could carry them off way better than she could. The other part of me just wanted to get my hands on those huge, jiggling melons and see whether she had a _very_ good plastic surgeon or if she had rolled a hundred in the genetic lottery. And also for the chance to see how sensitive breasts even bigger then mine could be. I thought I could have her eating out of my hand after a few minutes of playing with those mounds. Or, since she somehow had milk inside those udders, drinking her own milk out of my hand. Either or.  
  
I winked at Dean and he smiled at me. That sent a warm glow through me that had nothing to do with the arousal the two boys on either side of me were causing. This had to be one of the best date nights the two of us had been on in a while. And to think, normally we tried to be by ourselves! If all orgies were this fun, maybe we should go to more of them.  
  
Speaking of fun, Rory finally ( _finally!)_ stopped fucking around and started fucking me. Holding onto my hips for guidance, he slid into me, his dick spreading my walls as he entered my pussy. I groaned from deep in my chest. Christ, this felt good.  
  
I had never been double penetrated before. Sure, I had taken Dean up my ass or in my pussy, and sometimes he added a few fingers to whatever hole he wasn’t fucking. But I had never had two cocks inside me before. And it felt _awesome_. I felt so much fuller than I thought I would have. Getting DP’d was more then the sum of its parts.  
  
It was almost enough to make me forget to keep flying. And while Carlos was squeezing my ass pretty tightly, there was no way he could have actually caught me. And even if Rory somehow could have caught me, I would have preferred he take his hands off my breasts before clamping down like that.  
  
Luckily, I managed to stay in control. And while the boys fucked and groped me, I started rising up and down, in a far smoother motion then any kind of muscle could do. I rested my chin on Rory’s shoulder and groaned as I took two cocks in me at once. And thoroughly enjoyed both of them.  
  
It was a struggle to keep my emotional aura reigned in. Not that anyone seemed to mind. After all, feeling what I was feeling had to be great. Especially since my pleasure was so sharp, almost raw, as I pulled myself up and down the cocks of Triumph and Aegis.  
  
I thought I was going to cum soon. And if the orgasm was as good as I thought it was going to be, I might become hooked on getting double penetrated. If I did, I supposed I’d have to borrow the little helper Amy had that she thought I didn’t know about.  
  
I arched my back, pressing my breasts into Rory’s grasping hands. He sure knew how to play with a pair of breasts. The way he was handling me would have made me melt even if I wasn’t already turned on beyond all belief.  
  
I heard Tawnee asking Dean if he was ready to fuck his slut. As much as I would have liked to see someone as hot as my boyfriend and her going at it, there was no way I could focus on anything but my own pleasure right now. Shaking my hips from side to side, I, Rory and Carlos moaned as we felt their dicks shift around inside of me.  
  
Oh well, maybe next time. For now, it was time to see how it felt to get a load of cum in my ass and pussy at once.

*******

“Are you ready for this slut to ride you?” I asked Dean, smiling as I hovered my pussy above his thick cock.  
  
It was pretty easy to call myself that. It helped that it was true, of course. Yes, I took money in exchange for sex, which made me a whore. But I also loved doing it, which made me a slut. I wouldn’t be a slut if I only enjoyed having sex with Brian (or Lisa), but enjoying all the sex I had with so many people? A lot of whom I either never saw again, or never met outside of working here? That made me a slut.  
  
And, more than that, I was okay with calling myself a slut. I sure wouldn’t have been before I had started working at Club Lango. When had I realized and accepted that I was a slut? The first time I stripped in front of a bunch of strangers? The first time I had sold my body for money? The first time I had cum as I got fucked? Who knew. All I could say for sure was that it was pretty fun being a slut. Good sex felt nice, and I was glad I could have lots of it.  
  
I felt a selfish glow of satisfaction run through me as I noted that Dean was watching me and not his girlfriend getting railed by his friends. It was always nice to have people pay (good) attention to me instead of others. And I was about to make sure even more of his mind was focused on me.  
  
I sank down onto Dean’s cock, feeling him fill me up, spreading my walls apart as I went down. I moaned, exaggerating my pleasure a bit as I felt my sensitive walls getting stimulated. It was always a good idea to make sure the customer was a great lover who could bring pleasure to me even when I was the one doing all the work. It was so much a force of habit that I did it even in this case, where Dean actually was an attentive partner.  
  
His hands were firm on my hips as I slowly sank down, feeling the latest cock of the day filling me up. I didn’t have quite the right angle to let my clit brush against anything, but it still felt pretty damn nice.  
  
Once I was at the bottom of his shaft, I stayed there for a minute. I grabbed his hands and brought them up to my breasts. He quickly got the point, and started playing with them. Victoria had obviously trained him well, and his fingers seemed to practically dance across my boobs. I closed my eyes and sighed in satisfaction. Damn, that felt nice.  
  
I started to ride Dean, feeling him fill me up. I made sure to go from side to side and back and forth in addition to up and down as I fucked him. We both enjoyed it, feeling his cock slide around inside of me. And his hands constantly stayed busy, gently rubbing my boobs, fingers tugging at my stiff, engorged nipples. He better be careful if he didn’t want to get any milk splattered on him. I didn’t have a lot left in my breasts after everything I’d done tonight, but I could still feel a few drops inside of me.  
  
“Come on boys, can’t you do it harder? I want to fill your cocks tickling my throat!”  
  
I glanced over at Glory Girl. She sure seemed to be having a good time as Rory and Carlos fucked her. No, wait. I narrowed my eyes, trying to get a better look at her. The way she moved, and where the boys’ hands were, she was fucking them. It looked like she was using her flight powers to go up and down their dicks while they used their free hands to play with her body. Huh. The things you could do with some superpowers, I supposed. Not that I would ever want to use insects to help fuck someone. Some people really lucked in the power lottery, I supposed.  
  
Victoria kept on talking, or at least making noise. She was squealing and urging Carlos and Rory on and gasping, and generally making me thankful for the mostly soundproof walls in here. No need to give the entire floor a blow by blow account of what was happening as she got fucked by two guys at once.  
  
And I couldn’t let some boring, prudish, uptight hero upstage me. I smiled to myself, comparing how much skin my Skitter costume showed compared to Victoria’s Glory Girl costume. Yep, she sure was a prude alright, with that miniskirt and cleavage.  
  
“Fuck me big boy, show me what you can do,” I said, pitching my voice loud enough to be heard by Victoria without being too obvious about it. “Shove that cock into my cunt and make me squeal. I want to take it all, feel every bit of you inside my pussy.” I paused for breath, chest heaving underneath Dean’s hands. “Can’t you feel how wet I am for you? I fucking need this bad boy,” I ground from side to side, feeling his dick shift around inside me, “to fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow.”  
  
Dean smiled. I wasn’t sure how much of what I said he believed, or if he could tell I was just trying to upstage his girlfriend. Whatever he thought, his cock was rock hard inside me, letting me squeeze down on it. I looked into his eyes as I rode him, feeling so damn good.  
  
My first orgasm on Dean’s cock wasn’t a very big one, but I was sure I would be having plenty more before I climbed off of him. I felt my pussy squeeze down around him, trying to milk him. Speaking of milk, my orgasm and Dean’s fingers coaxed some milk out of my breasts. It wasn’t a big spray or anything, but just a still satisfying trickle down the curve of my boobs.  
  
I shivered atop of Dean, feeling his dick still filling me up. I took a moment to catch my breath as he patiently waited, his cock hot and hard inside of me. After getting my breath back, I started riding him once again.  
  
“Oh baby, you don’t know how good that felt,” I said, smiling and stroking the side of his face. “Feeling that pleasure surge through me, oh, it made me feel like such a happy girl. I hope I can do the same for you, honey, make you feel all nice and hot, until you finally cum deep into my stretched, needy cunt. I want you to fill this whore up with as much thick, sticky cum as you’ve got left. Surely your girlfriend didn’t take all of it.”  
  
And that was about all the talk, dirty or otherwise, I could do for the next while. At least until I got my breath back. And that wouldn’t be terribly easy to do since I had to keep bouncing up and down Dean’s cock.  
  
I looked over to Lisa. I almost laughed at the sight. She and Amy were having quite the good time. Lisa was on top of the healer, wildly fucking her with a double-ended dildo. They were both facing away from me, so I could see Amy’s legs sticking straight up into the air as her pussy got filled again and again with the thick purple toy Lisa was using. Quite the change in attitude both of them had displayed at the bank.  
  
It was an effort to turn my gaze away from Lisa’s sexy ass and the two pussies stretched by a thick toy, but I managed. The way Dean was playing with my tits helped. I decided to amuse myself by letting my hands wander over his torso. He was a bit less muscular than Brian, but it was still a treat for both the hands and eyes to have all those muscles to myself.  
  
“Hey, stud,” I said. My breath wasn’t fully back yet, but it just made me sound sexier. “How do you want to cum on this slutty whore? Another triple facial from you and your friends? Or do you want to fill my tight,” I wiggled from side to side, “wet,” and again, “cunt?” I ground down, burying as much of his cock inside me as I could.  
  
A long, low moan interrupted me just as I was about to kiss Dean. The sound was one of pure sex, a sultry moan that sent a tingle straight through me. And I was _used_ to hearing moans and gasps. I looked over at the source, seeing a vision of femininity sandwiched between two examples of masculinity.  
  
At a guess, I’d say both Rory and Carlos had cum inside Victoria at the same time. Looking over at the trio, Victoria’s long, tanned, toned limbs were quivering as she slumped in their arms. Additionally, both guys had their eyes closed and were holding onto Victoria’s body for dear life. I smiled. Hopefully she enjoyed getting creampied in both her lower holes at once. I knew I sure did.  
  
Dean was looking over at them too. He had a small smile on his face as he watched his girlfriend cum in the arms of two other men. Well, good for him that he could be reasonable about that sort of thing. Brian accepted that I got fucked by other people, and even joined in a couple of times. I wouldn’t be dating him otherwise. And by the same measure, I was okay with him fucking other women (or other men, not that I’d ever been able to talk him into doing something so hot). Not that I thought he ever had fucked another girl besides Lisa.  
  
Any ways, it was good for couples to not be so uptight about who fucked who. It was a good thing that Dean and Victoria could accept other people fucking the other partner in the relationship. And hell, maybe I’d get lucky enough for some extended one on one time with Victoria before the night was over. Even one on two time with her and Dean would be alright.  
  
“Looks like you won’t be getting that bukkake,” Dena said, turning his attention back to me. “So unless there’s somewhere else you want me to cum on, it’s going to be your pussy.”  
  
“Fine by me,” I answered, licking my lips. Hot cum always felt so nice inside my pussy, sticking to everything and sending a surge of warmth and pleasure through me. “You just shoot off whenever you’re ready, big boy. I’ll take every drop, deep inside me.”  
  
I picked up my pace, slamming myself down on Dean’s shaft time and time again. I was getting close to my own orgasm, and I bet that Dean was almost ready on his end too. Just a few more minutes, and we should both be cumming at the same time.  
  
A change in the moaning made me look over. Lisa was fucking Amy in a brand new position. The brunette healer was on her hands and knees, facing the two of us as Lisa fucked her doggy style. It looked so hot to see one of the more famous parahumans in the city getting fucked like a bitch in heat by a whore. Especially because Amy was so obviously loving it. Her eyes were unfocused and her breasts were swaying underneath her as Lisa pounded into her time and again.  
  
My friend looked up and winked at me. I winked back, the two of sharing the satisfaction of getting to fuck superheroes who were totally in the dark about who we really were. Then Lisa turned back to spanking Amy, filling the room with the healer’s gasps, moans, and the sounds of flesh hitting flesh. I wondered if Amy could heal herself, or if she wouldn’t be sitting down for the next few days.  
  
Then my concerns over Amy and ‘Sara’ were cut off as I felt Dean’s cock throb inside of me. I moaned in anticipation, wanting the heavy load of cum he had been building up for me. I closed my eyes to better feel the pleasure.  
  
“Come on, fill me up, fill me up, fill me up,” I half-chanted, half-begged. “Your cock was made for a slut like me. Do it, pump cum into-!”  
  
He started orgasming before I finished my sentence. My words quickly became a gasp as he came, cock throbbing and cum flooding my already creampied pussy. He was quieter than I was, but still made some sounds as we both shuddered in climax. I felt my pussy randomly squeezing down, clenching and then relaxing around his dick as the pleasure ran through me.  
  
We both sat there for a long minute, feeling the pleasure burn itself out of our bodies, leaving behind a warm, pleasant haze. I looked down to see beads of milk splattered across Dean’s chest. Heh, I hadn’t even noticed that I had shot out some milk. Must have been right as I came. My breasts certainly felt nicely empty, like he had just emptied the last drops still inside me.  
  
Behind me, I could hear the sounds of Rory, Carlos and Victoria starting up round two. They obviously had a lot of energy to still burn off, and so did I. I ran my hand down Dean’s cheek as I lustily smiled at him.  
  
“Come on, you don’t want to let them win, do you?” Not even I was sure what the exact game was. But I was up for anything if it involved more sex. “You’re ready for round two, aren’t you?”  
  
There was a flicker of concern in Dean’s eyes but he gallantly nodded and spread his legs. I reached down and started giving him a handjob, feeling his cock become slick underneath my fingers with the cum and arousal we had both spread on it.  
  
I didn’t do much good, his dick staying limp in my hands. Then Panacea reached over and tapped Dean on the thigh. Three seconds later, his cock was fully erect in my hands. My eyebrows rose as I nodded a thank you to Panacea. That was a useful little ability.  
  
And now that Dean was hard again, the games could start up again. Swinging myself around, I looked over my shoulder at Dean as I sat down on his crotch. His dick was trapped between his body and my crotch. I could feel my arousal dripping onto him as his dick spread my lower lips.  
  
“Ready for me, handsome?” I asked.  
  
I was already moving by the time he nodded. Keeping his dick steady in one hand, I sank downwards, impaling myself on his cock. It felt just as good the second time around. My wet walls easily slid apart for him, welcoming him in between my folds.  
  
I only stopped going downwards when the bottom of my thighs were pressed against his. I wiggled from side to side a bit, feeling him slide around inside me. I smiled over my shoulder as best as I could. I could feel Dean’s hands sliding over my hips and then grabbing my ass.  
  
My ass wasn’t nearly as large as my breasts were, but there was still enough there for him to get a good handful. Admittedly, that handful was _all_ there was to my ass, as opposed to my boobs, where half a dozen hands could grope me and there’d still be a bit of titflesh left over.  
  
I started bouncing up and down on his cock, feeling his fingers squeezing me and my boobs bouncing as I rode him. From this position, I could get a good view of Victoria, Carlos and Rory, without having to strain my neck to look over my shoulder.  
  
And Victoria was looking at me. She looked pretty sexy, with a flushed face and blonde hair sticking to her forehead. I briefly thought about how nice it would be to see her and ‘Sara’ side by side, blonde hair going every which way on both of them, and, hm. Yeah, both licking the cum off of each other’s face, cum provided by my boyfriend. Now there was something to think about the next time I was horny and no one else was around.  
  
I winked at Victoria before moaning loudly as her boyfriend hilted himself inside me. Damn, Dean felt nice inside me. It helped that his cock was big enough to still satisfy me even after getting fucked so many times tonight by Rory and Carlos. I reached down to give myself just a bit more stimulation and gasped as my fingers brushed my engorged clit. The moan I gave out at that, well, I already was a whore, so calling it whorish was completely accurate.  
  
My moaning drew Carlos’ and Rory’s gaze to me as well. Now that all three hotties were watching me, I realized I needed to do more than just masturbate while riding a stud. I grabbed my thighs and lifted them up, giving all three superhero’s a clear view of my tight, wet pussy getting pounded hard by Dean’s thick cock.  
  
Their gazes were exciting as I felt them crawl over my skin. Carlos and Rory, at least, were letting their eyes run all over my naked, jiggling body. I smirked as I saw that Victoria only had eyes for my pussy and Dean’s cock. Maybe I should ask her to lick Dean’s two loads of cum out of me when we were done here. Or maybe that would get me pinned underneath her, licking _Victoria’s_ pussy. Either or would be fine.  
  
Holding my legs up in the air like this meant I couldn’t actually ride Dean, since I didn’t have any way to go up and down. Luckily, he realized the conundrum quickly, and grabbed my thighs, hands close to mind. He started lifting me up and down, grunting slightly as he fucked me.  
  
I encouraged him by lustily moaning and begging, urging him on and on. And it wasn’t just an act. He felt good inside of me, stretching me out and making me melt as his cock filled me again and again. And given that he was rock hard inside of me, he was obviously enjoying it too.  
  
I was even more turned on by the fact that the trio across the room were still watching. I’d known for a while I had been developing some exhibitionistic tendencies. Hardly a bad thing for a stripper to have, of course. And with my boobs, I supposed I would be putting on a show if I wore a nun’s habit. And not the sexy nun costume we had in the wardrobe downstairs, an actual on your knees, praying to God, nun. And, I supposed, an actual on your knees, praying to God nun and not a euphemism for a blowjob.  
  
At any rate, I enjoyed being looked at. And the three superheroes were certainly looking at every inch they could see as the big-boobed whore rode their friend and was shouting out how good his fat dick was making her cum-filled pussy feel. Victoria was especially interested (or something related to interest) and had slowed down enough that Carlos and Rory had grabbed her hips so they could keep fucking her.  
  
I hoped Glory Girl would keep on watching long enough to see her boyfriend cum in me. That sounded really hot, even on top of how fun it was to get a creampie anyways. Although it would be a bit hard to distinguish between the upcoming cum shot in my pussy and all the other loads of cum I’d taken from the guys so far tonight.  
  
Well, that was just something I’d have to deal with when it happened. And I thought it would be happening very soon. The way Dean’s cock was twitching inside my pussy, and the way my pussy was squeezing down on him, told me that we were both close to cumming.  
  
“Come on, big boy, just do it a bit longer. I can feel you inside me, can’t you fill me up with your hot cum right now?”  
  
I threw in a bunch of moans and gasps, very few of them faked. It did the trick. Dean groaned and pulled me down, anchoring me on his dick. My breath stuttered as I felt him pulsing inside of my wet, stretched cunt. And then he came.  
  
I threw my head back against his shoulder as Dean came in me again. His load seemed just as thick and sticky as last time, shooting deep into my pussy and covering up my already creampied pussy with a fresh load of cum. I felt full and bloated, in quite a good way.  
  
I slumped down, letting go of my legs. My own orgasm hadn’t been huge, but it had still felt nice. I could feel the light tingles of pleasure still running through my body, slowly dying down. Dean’s hands slid up a few inches, grabbing my ass again and gently kneading it. I noticed that Victoria was still watching us, boobs, head and hair bouncing as the boys fucked her. That gave me an idea.  
  
I twisted my body around just enough that I could kiss Dean while keeping an eye on Victoria. Looking at her, I pressed my lips against him, feeling him draw back for a second before kissing me in turn. And he was a pretty good kisser. Lots of practice with Victoria, I was guessing. I’d have to thank her for the training later.  
  
I made sure to lock eyes with Glory Girl as I kissed her boyfriend. She stared at me for a second, a frown distorting her features. Then she turned her head away and started urging her friends to fuck her harder and harder. I smirked, turning my attention back to Dean. I was pretty sure I had just guaranteed an encounter with Victoria later tonight.  
  
Now to see who would end up on top. The ‘normal’ girl or the one with flight, super strength and invulnerability.

  
*****  
(Note, the following section is from the POV of a Neo-Nazi. If you are uncomfortable reading that, skip to the next section, marked by the triple asterisks.)**

  
Cassie really didn’t think this club was the kind of place someone like her should be visiting. Not out of costume, at any rate. If she was here, it should be as Rune, watching the tub of lard that ran the place hand over some protection money while trying not to piss himself.  
  
Instead, Jessa and Nessa had dragged Cassie along to a bar to have a couple of drinks. Three shots of whiskey later for both of them, they had decided it would be funny to go visit a strip club and dragged Cassie along with them. Almost literally, too. But since the twins had the keys to their car, and Cassie hadn’t charged her phone or brought money with her, she realized the only way she was getting home without walking eight miles was to stick with them.  
  
That hadn’t done wonders for her mood, which Nessa had picked up on. The half bottle of gin she had poured down Cassie’s throat hadn’t done much for her mood either, but it had made her next idea seem a lot more reasonable. So, urged on by Jessa’s and Nessa’s chanting, Cassie had signed up for the amateur night stripping contest.  
  
And had lost horribly. Cassie didn’t dance much, and was only a few steps away from falling over from the alcohol in her system. Some big-boobed blonde bimbo (Cassie took a few deep breaths and told herself that she saw a perfect example of the Aryan ideal) had gotten on stage right after her and utterly dominated the performance, leaving Cassie seething.  
  
Jessa’s cure for that had been a few more drinks of something sticky with an umbrella in it. The two twins had wandered off somewhere, hopefully to find some white guys (Cassie still had concerns over why those two seemed so familiar with a place that only had women dancers), leaving her alone at the bar.  
  
Picking up her half-empty drink, Cassie looked over the densely packed floor, gazing at the crowd. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for and was hoping she’d know when she found it. She took another gulp as someone sat down next to her.  
  
Turning to look at them, Cassie frowned. It was a big black guy, with rows of black hair tightly pressed against his head. Well, if he tried anything, Rune could smear him against three yards of wall. And if not, he was attractive enough for his race. Tightly smiling at him, Cassie raised her glass before taking another drink.  
  
“Looks like you’re almost done with that drink, lady,” the man said, smiling and revealing two rows of white teeth. “Want me to buy you another?”  
  
“Sure,” _so long as you don’t think that means you get a shot at me_ , Cassie replied.  
  
The man, well, boy, since he seemed about Cassie’s age, nodded at the bartender. Soon, another copy of whatever it was Cassie was drinking clinked against the edge of her mostly-drained glass.  
  
“I’m Brian, by the way,” the boy, Brian, said. He held out a hand to shake which Cassie took after a second’s thought.  
  
“Jackie,” Cassie said. No sense in being stupid. “Come here often?”  
  
“Yes,” Brian nodded. Cassie wasn’t a bit surprised. That sort of thing fit with what Kaiser said. “How about you?”  
  
Cassie and Brian chatted a bit more, getting closer and closer to each other to hear over the sound of the music and the crowd. Cassie had another three drinks to Brian’s one and a half, and found herself warming to Brian as she kept on drinking.  
  
Finally, she turned to the bartender. Tugging at his sleeve, she leaned forward, and then waited for the room to stop spinning. Once the bartender consolidated into one bartender instead of two, she felt ready to ask him a question.  
  
“Ish there anywhere a girl can…” Cassie trailed off before remembering what she was asking. “Can have some fun in private?”  
  
The bartender paused for a moment, glancing over her shoulder at Brian. Then he shrugged.  
  
“Try those booths over there,” he said, pointing at half a dozen alcoves along the far wall. Cassie turned to look at them. A couple had curtains drawn over them, hiding what was inside. One didn’t, and Cassie could see a woman grinding against some guy, her tits spilling out of her top. “But if one of our girls needs it, you two will have to leave.”  
  
“Fair enough,” Brian said, laying a hand on Cassie’s shoulder. “Thanks, Jo.”  
  
Brian guided Cassie over to an empty booth, helping her walk on her rubber legs. For most of the way, she was pressed against Brian’s torso, which let her feel just how many muscles he had underneath his shirt. Cassie was beginning to think she had gotten really lucky. Yes, he was black, which was a problem, but this was just going to be her showing that her fuck-up on stage had been a one-off, and that she could show off her body. It wasn’t as if they’d be dating or anything.  
  
Stepping into the booth, Brian twitched the curtain closed behind them. He sat down in the only seat available in the cramped booth, sliding past Cassie as he did so. The way he groped her rear might have been intentional or might have been because of how closely the booth forced them together.  
  
“You know I have a girlfriend, right?” Brian asked, a note of amusement in his voice.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Cassie said dismissively. “I’m sure I’m hotter than her.”  
  
“Just like the last three times I said that,” Brian muttered under his breath.  
  
Cassie ignored him and listened to the music, trying to find the beat in it. Once she had an idea of what it was, she turned back to Brian, shaking her hips. She still had enough coordination left to not trip over her own feet as she swayed from side to side.  
  
A leer appeared on Brian’s face as Cassie climbed into his lap. She kept on moving her hips, grinding against Brian’s crotch. She could feel him getting hard underneath her. It looked like BBC was a thoroughly accurate assessment of the black race. Luckily, Cassie had pretty wide hips so she should be able to take him if and when things got that far.  
  
Cassie tugged at her shirt, wishing she had worn something sexier, or at least had a better looking bra on. Her thong should make up for the plainness of her bra, though. Brian gave her boobs and the bit of cleavage her bra showed off an appreciative look, so Cassie kept on going. Her bra soon joined her shirt on the floor behind her as she kept on humping Brian.  
  
Cassie had fairly big breasts, at least for someone with her build. She was sure that her rack had to better than Brian’s girlfriend. And she was even generous to let him get some hands-on experience with it. Grabbing Brian’s hands, she pressed them against her breasts. He took the hint and started groping them, thick fingers gliding over her curves and playing with her nipples.  
  
Cassie hissed in pleasure, the drunken flush on her cheeks becoming mingled with the blush of lust. She kept on dancing as much as she could, although it was really little more then pressing her hips down against Brian’s crotch and shifting from side to side. That was going to make it hard to remove her skirt and underwear, but she couldn’t bring herself to actually stop pressing against Brian’s thick dick quite yet.  
  
Then Cassie remembered that if she took off her skirt and thong, she could get a better feel for just how big Brian was. That was enough to get her hands moving, plucking at the fastenings of her skirt. She raised her hips enough to whip off the skirt and the thong followed a second later. Then Cassie paused, rubbing her fingers against her crotch, letting Brian get a good long look at how pretty and wet her shaved pussy was.  
  
Cassie thought she had a very good looking vagina, and made sure to keep it shaved so people (usually just her in the mirror) could admire how nice it looked. Brian paid a gratifying amount of attention to it, actually letting go of Cassie’s chest to run a finger along it. Cassie hissed, and Brian’s finger came away wet.  
  
“You want to keep doing a lap dance, or do you want to do something a bit more fun?” Brian asked. He was already undoing his pants, pulling out his cock.  
  
Words momentarily failed Cassie as she looked it over. God damn, that looked tasty. It was so big and thick, and Cassie could even see a hint of glimmer at the tip. It seemed he was almost as turned on as she was.  
  
Cassie got off of Brian and sank down to her knees in front of him. She needed a closer look at this thing. And she liked what she saw. Cassie licked her lips as she imagined that thick, hard dick filling her up, stretching her walls apart as she rode him.  
  
Leaning forward a bit, Cassie pressed the top of her chest against Brian’s dick. Then she slowly raised herself up, letting his cock trail down her chest, in between her breasts, along her stomach and past her navel. She couldn’t quite keep it pressed against her all the way to her crotch, but she managed most of the way. When Brian’s dick finally stopped pressing against her skin, Cassie just had to shuffle forward a bit to end up back on Brian’s lap.  
  
Cassie pressed herself against Brian, from her shoulders to her hips. He had undone his buttoned-up shirt, so she could press directly against his hot, bare skin. Cassie sighed in happiness as she felt Brian’s chest make her breasts pillow slightly. And sighed again as she felt his thick dick slid along her soaked lower lips.  
  
Brian encircled her in his arms, holding her close against him as his hands met behind her, squeezing her ass. They leaned in for a kiss, and Brian turned out to be the better kisser by far. He left Cassie clutching his shoulders and gasping as they separated.  
  
“Are there any condoms in there?” Brian asked, breaking the kiss to nod at the dispenser next to the curtain.  
  
“Nah,” Cassie said, glancing back at it. “Unless you’ve got some we’re just going to have to bareback.” Yeah, that was such a sacrifice, Cassie thought. Getting to take that thick, hot, black dick raw, without any latex getting in the way and robbing her of even the slightest amount of pleasure.  
  
Before Brian even had a chance to answer, Cassie had him in one hand. Raising her hips, she then lowered herself down, feeling her lower lips easily parting before Brian’s dick. She paced herself, slowly sinking lower and lower, feeling herself getting more and more stretched as Brian filled her.  
  
Brian’s hands were on her hips, not pulling her down, but just gently resting as Cassie lowered herself. Cassie couldn’t bring herself to look at how much she was taking, and had her eyes screwed shut. A muffled whimper escaped her closed lips as she felt the feeling of fullness grow and grow inside of her.  
  
Finally, Cassie couldn’t go any farther down. She was full, with a sensation telling her that it would turn into pain if she tried for any more. Which was fairly all right, since she didn’t think she _could_ go down any more even if she wanted to.  
  
Opening her eyes, Cassie craned her head, looking down at the spot where she and Brian met. A disbelieving smile appeared on her face. She had actually taken most of his cock! There were only two or so inches sticking out of her. Practically nothing, compared to the rest she had crammed inside herself.  
  
Cassie felt a bit of tension seep out of her now that she had proven she could take Brian. Now that that was over, it was time to start having some _fun_. And Cassie knew that with her thick, muscular thighs, she could be having that sort of fun with Brian for a long time.  
  
Tightening her grip on Brian’s shoulders, Cassie pushed herself up, feeling his cock slowly slide out of her as she rose up. She stopped when only his lower head was inside her, just barely stretching her walls. And that meant it was time to sink back down.  
  
It felt just as good the second time. In fact it felt a bit better, because Cassie sunk down a bit too far. It turned out that her body had lied to her. She could take just a bit more, and that bit felt _amazing_. Cassie’s eyes shot open wide as the tip of Brian’s dick brushed against her womb. The feeling of intense, overwhelming pleasure was enough to push her over the edge into orgasm.  
  
Cassie fell forward, landing against Brian, body shaking as she came. Her lungs felt hot, raw and empty as she gasped for breath. Brian’s arms felt so comforting as he wrapped her in a hug, waiting for her shaking to stop. And his dick felt good inside of her as she squeezed down, her pussy tightening and then relaxing at random.  
  
“Woah,” Cassie said, her mouth pressed against Brian’s flat muscle. “I don’t think I’ve ever cum that fast before.” Her hips twitched back and forth as she spoke. “Felt good, though.”  
  
“I’m glad,” Brian said dryly. “And I’m more then ready to keep on going.”  
  
Cassie bet he was. She could feel how hard he still was inside of her. Cassie pulled her head back and looked Brian over. She especially noticed how strong his arms looked. She came to a pretty easy decision.  
  
“Brian?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Fuck me like a slut. Like you’d fuck one of those whores on the stage out there.” The words felt delicious on Cassie’s lips.  
  
“Well, I think I can manage that,” Brian said with a smile. His grip tightened on Cassie’s hips, and the white girl took a deep breath.  
  
And he did fuck her just like a needy, wanton slut. Cassie couldn’t keep her voice muffled, and, after the third stroke, didn’t care anymore. She started screaming, moaning, begging Brian for more. Her entire body was jolting from side to side on top of him, hair flying every which way as her breasts bounced up and down. Her hands flitted over him, tracing his muscles on his arms and chest and shoulders.  
  
But most of all, Cassie came. The sheer force Brian was using to fuck her drove her wile, making her cum time and time again. She counted at least two more orgasms, and was pretty sure she came even more, though her mind got hazy enough it was hard to tell.  
  
Cassie didn’t _mean_ to announce to the whole club every time she came, but she didn’t really care about keeping quiet either. It wasn’t as if she could keep the feeling’s Brian’s dick were stirring up in her on the down low, anyways. The only times her voice was muffled was when she was kissing Brian, lips frantically pressed against him. The rest of the time she was screaming from the top of her lungs, giving a fairly detailed description of what Brian was doing to her.  
  
By the time Brian finally came, Cassie had gotten the best fucking of her life. Her eyes were wide and wild and she could barely breathe as Brian’s relentless fucking drove the breath out of her lungs. She felt so good she could barely think. And she knew she couldn’t walk, that her orgasms had utterly sapped the strength out of her, leaving her limp and boneless in Brian’s embrace.  
  
And when Brian finally came, that was enough to push Cassie over the final edge into pure, unthinking bliss. His thick black dick pulsed inside her, shooting long streams of white cum inside her stretched pussy. Cassie’s eyes crossed as she felt the spray of cum inside her, filling her up. Her hips twitched atop of Brian as she felt the warmth blossom in her core.  
  
Cassie collapsed forward against Brian and stayed there for a long while, slowly recovering from her steady string of climaxes. Brian held her, his arms firm around her back and sides. Finally, Cassie had recovered enough from the pleasure to be able to sit upright. She did so, slightly regretting the loss of contact with Brian’s muscular body.  
  
Cassie rested her hand against her belly. Even with Brian slowly deflating inside her, she still felt stuffed with his dick and cum. A warm, pleasant feeling radiated out from her lower belly. She sighed in satisfaction, before her increasingly clearer thoughts threw up something up she would just have soon not have thought.  
  
Cassie thought about asking about that girlfriend Brian had mentioned. Either she was black or one of the other inferior races, in which case no duh, Brian was obviously looking for a _real_ woman. Or she was white, and that would be enough to put Cassie back on the clock. And she felt too good to want to rampage through the club as Rune. Either way, asking the question wouldn’t get her anything.  
  
And then Brian went and talked about her anyway. Stroking Cassie’s hair, he chuckled.  
  
“You know, it’s a good thing my girlfriend works here. She’s real understanding about me getting other girls while she picks up the guys. If you’re interested in more than just a one-night stand, we could meet up and have some fun together.”  
  
Cassie grimaced. That brought to mind even more of Kaiser’s and the Empire’s teachings on, well, a lot of things. Multiple sexual partners, mixed races, all of that. Part of her was still wondering which of the dancing girls Brian was sleeping with.  
  
Now that she had succeeded in killing her mood, Cassie realized it was time to go. She wasn’t nearly drunk enough to properly enjoy this without Kaiser’s lessons hanging over her head, reminding her of how she was shaming the white race. She slowly slid off of Brian’s lap, almost tripping on the clothes she had so quickly stripped out of and left on the floor.  
  
“I guess not, huh?” Brian observed, cleaning himself off with a napkin. “Well, at least finish your drink before you head out.” He nodded towards the glass Cassie could barely remember bringing with her. There was still a quarter or so of the bright pink liquid at the bottom of the glass.  
  
“Thanks,” Cassie said, the final syllable muffled by the glass pressed to her lips. She sighed in satisfaction, feeling the booze wash through her once again.  
  
In a move fueled by drunken lust, Cassie decided that she didn’t want this to necessarily be the end of it. There was a black marker sitting on a small shelf next to her shoulder. And while a black marker wouldn’t show up very well on Brian’s black skin, she had the solution to that. The question of why markers were in the booth was something for another time.  
  
Grabbing her white thong, Cassie scribbled her phone number ( _Cassie’s_ phone number, note Rune’s) onto it. Stuffing the silken garment into Brian’s hand, she winked at him. Already, a wave of exhibitionistic arousal was washing through her as Cassie considered what it would mean to go out into the city without any underwear on.  
  
Torn between drunken lust and shame over what she had just done, Cassie staggered out of the booth, leaving a bemused Brian behind her. The very first people she saw when she exited the alcove were Jessa and Nessa. Both of the twins were grinning at her, identical expressions of amusement on their faces.  
  
“Having a fun time, Cas?” Jessa drawled, leaning against the wall.  
  
“I don’t think I’ve ever been ‘ridden like a slutty horse and put away wet’, have you, Jessa?” Nessa said, smiling as Cassie flushed.  
  
For once, Cassie was glad for how loud the music was. That let her pretend she couldn’t hear the twins’ questions and comments. Instead, she just walked away as quickly as her shaky legs could carry her. She could hear the twins cackling up a storm behind her.  
  
And she could also feel cum trickling down the insides of her thighs. She hoped that would be the one thing the twins didn’t notice. Second thing, really. She didn’t think they knew that Brian was black. She hoped they didn’t, at least.

  
*******

  
Candi strutted off stage, wiggling her bare ass even more than the high heels she had on demanded. She winked at me as I lurked out of sight behind the curtains. I smiled back at her, tugging at my costume. Not to preserve my modesty, both because I didn’t have any and the costume wouldn’t allow me any even if I did. But because I had the usual pre-performance jitters. I’d practiced this routine a lot, but it would still be the first time I’d actually done it in front of a paying crowd.  
  
My music started up, a pretty awful electronic country mix. But it wasn’t as if people came to a strip club to hear good music. Pasting an alluring smile on my face I strutted down the catwalk, swinging my hips as I went. And this time, it was really obvious how much I was swinging them.  
  
The cow tail wagging behind me hit the outside of my thighs with every swing, the black patch at the end slapping against my bare skin. There were a few hoots and hollers even before I got to the pole at the end of the catwalk. That made my smile a lot more genuine. It seemed I had fans in the audience, people who could recognize me. Or maybe they figured anyone with breasts as big as mine had to give a good show.  
  
The cow theme extended to the rest of my clothing. Cowgirl styled heels, a tasseled vest vest, white stockings with black blotches on them, a blue denim skirt that was as about as long as my index finger, and a matching set of bra and backless panties. And by backless, I meant _backless_. That the cow tail was a plug and not a clip on was obvious to anyone behind me, with the thin black lines of the panties splitting around the toy and curving up to cross over high on my hips. A cowboy hat with small horns glued to the top completed the ensemble.  
  
I looked less like a slutty cowgirl, and more like… Metaphors had failed me from the instant I saw the costume. I still hadn’t come up with a good comparison for what I looked like. Although, at least, everyone so far had approved of seeing me wear it. Brian had tried to see what it looked like off of me, but I had managed to get away by shoving Lisa off on him. I had already done my makeup, and didn’t want to spend even more time redoing it after a makeout session with him.  
  
The sacrifices I made for my career.  
  
The audience couldn’t see them yet, but underneath the tight bikini top (which would burst if I so much as took too deep a breath), I had on a brand new set of nipple rings. I didn’t even know they _made_ cowbell nipple piercings, and yet here I was. They were pretty small, and, honestly, an impressive amount of work, to get an actual bell… rod… thing inside to make them ring. But, as small as they were, they making the tightness of my bikini top that much tighter. As for the vest, there wasn’t a way to fasten it even if I could draw the edges closed across my breasts.  
  
As popular as my themed piercings would probably be what was a few inches behind them. Lisa had practically gotten down on her knees and begged me to do it, saying how hot it would be. She had finally convinced me, at least for this show. It, obviously, wasn’t something I could do for every show, or even every cowgirl show.  
  
But, just for Lisa, I hadn’t drained my breasts for a few days. There was a tightness in them from all the milk that had built up, and I was _really_ looking forward to getting some relief tonight. So were all of my bras. Just because I wasn’t reaching up to squeeze my girls didn’t mean that milk didn’t leak out of them. There was only so much absorbent pads could soak up, and I was going through two sets of bras a day waiting for the starting night of my new dance.  
  
I was feeling heavy and bloated, but the money I was making from this should make up for it. I was looking forward to walking off the stage feeling light and empty and with more money in my garters then I knew what to do with. Of course, to get that money, I’d need to start dancing.  
  
I swayed in time to the beat, grabbing the pole with both hands. I walked around it, swaying my hips as much as I could, making my tail flick from side to side. When I bent down, showing off even more of my cleavage, I got a ripple of clapping washing through the room.  
  
One of the good things about this costume was how many pieces of clothing it let me take off while not really hiding anything. The skirt was the closest thing to something that would cover me that I had on, and it would still get me arrested for public indecency three seconds after leaving the club. But that just meant that, to the right crowd, I was that much hotter.  
  
The vest was the first thing to go. It was easy enough to slip out of, and there was enough fabric it was easy to twirl around my finger, letting the tassels fly out as I swung it over my head. The vest hadn’t done much to hide my boobs, and I really didn’t feel any more naked when I whipped it off.  
  
I then turned back to the pole, sliding my body along it. The bikini top didn’t have enough give to let me do the trick of wrapping my boobs around the pole, but I still went up and down, feeling the cold metal against my functionally-bare skin. And since I was facing away from most of the crowd, I made sure to wiggle my hips a bunch, letting them see how much I could jiggle back there. The answer? Not nearly as much as I could make my breasts jiggle.  
  
So I turned around and let the crowd see how much my boobs could dance. That got a lot of applause, especially since I was squatting and had my legs spread widely apart, letting everyone see my barely covered pussy, not really hidden by my microskirt and panties. Later on, I’d be masturbating, but I wasn’t at the right point in the dance, or horny enough, to do that.  
  
I sprang to my feet as quickly as I could in my heels. My hat was next. I threw it backstage with my best cowgirl (as in, a female cowgirl, not a girl who was a cow) yell. That didn’t reveal anything more then a bit more hair, but it still got another round of applause from the anonymous crowd.  
  
Next up, I demonstrated my flexibility. And balance, since it was hard to hold one leg against my torso while staying upright on only one high heel. But I managed it. The crowd seemed less taken with my demonstration of balance, and more with me showing off just how long my legs were, and what was nestled between them.  
  
Hopefully, every guy in the house had a boner by now. Enough of them appreciated me, at least, to start throwing money on the stage. Not a lot, so far, and not in very high denominations. But more would come. After all, I hadn’t even bared my breasts yet.  
  
I thought I might be showing off my boobs even sooner then I had planned to. My tits were feeling tingly and kind of achy, in the way that meant I was about to start leaking milk. And since the material of my top was thin and pale, it wouldn’t take much milk to plaster the ‘clothing’ to my tits, letting everyone see just how damn big I was.  
  
It would be time to whip off my top in just a few minutes, so I had to hope I didn’t leak too much before then. Giving the crowd my best sultry, fuck-me look, I slid my microskirt off of my hips, carefully angling it over my heels. The skirt was flimsy enough I’d probably rip it in two if it caught on the point of a heel.  
  
Even taking my time, I still made it look sexy. After I got the microskirt off, I drew my hands back up along my shaved legs, doing my best to make everyone in the club imagine it was their hands sliding up me and moving along my inner thighs. I finished by drawing my hands up along my panties, making the material shift just enough to outline my cleft, though I doubted anyone in the seating area could see it.  
  
That done, I stood back up and did a few more twirls around the pole, throwing up my arms and legs as I danced. I also moved my head from side to side, letting my hair bounce behind me. After a few more moves, it was time to get to the next bit of clothing to take off.  
  
And none too soon. My tits needed relief, and needed it _now_. Taking off the bikini top was only the first step, but even that would offer a bit of comfort, to no longer having it dig into my flesh. It was tight enough on me it was a bit tough to remove, and I ended up using a bit more force than I had thought, ripping the flimsy garment in two.  
  
It got a lot of cheers at least, as my breasts flopped out into view, so it wasn’t all bad. I let the remnants of my top drop down to the stage. I squatted down, spreading my legs and cupping my breasts. One hand per breast really wasn’t enough. But since this was just an one-woman show, there wasn’t anyone to help caress me.  
  
I was probably the only one who could hear the bells hanging from my nipples, with the sound of the crowd and the music booming from the speakers. But they could all see the bells themselves, dangling from my nipples and chiming with every move. And my breasts moved a lot. Especially once I started playing with them.  
  
I swayed from side to side as I played with my tits, fingers wandering over them as I mugged for the crowd. I wanted so badly to squeeze down and get some milk out, to relieve the ache inside them. But it wasn’t quite time for that. With a mental groan, I forced my hands away from my tits and had them crawl up the pole behind me.  
  
Slowly rising up, I did a few more moves, making my tits even more as I shook and spun around the stage. There was a lot of clapping, and some guys were even pounding their feet. The thrill of having them pay attention to me helped take my mind off of how painfully full of milk my breasts were.  
  
I grabbed the pole again and started climbing up it, my thighs squeezing the metal. This time, the pole _was_ between my breasts, rubbing against them. I could feel dribbles of milk leaking out and running down the curve of my breast and then my stomach. Well, the stage floor would need to be cleaned anyway. It wasn’t as if human milk was the worst substance to ever land on it. Or even the worst white substance.  
  
As I climbed, I twitched my hips from side to side, making my tail wag. I wondered how many of the men out there could get a good view of exactly how it was attached to me. Well, if they couldn’t, they would soon enough.  
  
Once I got as high u as I could climb, I threw my arms out and leaned back. I slowly slid back down the pole, circling around, my thighs keeping a tight grip on it. Stripping might not get written up in an exercise magazine, but I had to be burning more calories and getting better muscles then any protien-chugging gym rat.  
  
Back on the floor again, I stood up and started playing with my boobs again. Even the soft, light touches I was using was still enough to get milk to bead at my nipples. And it was a heroic act of will to just keep my fingers brushing over my tits, and not squeezing the milk out of them. It would feel so good to do so, and relieve the heavy, bloated ache in them.  
  
I forced my hands away from my boobs and ran them back down my body as I twirled around. It was time to let everyone get a look at the most inventive piece of clothing I had on. At least the first few rows. I doubted the people at the tables could tell exactly how this tail was attached to me.  
  
I knelt down, facing away from the room. I used one hand to prop myself up as I leaned forward, almost in the doggy style position. With my other, I started playing with the tail plug, tugging it from side to side in time to the music, moving it in the opposite direction of my twitching hips.  
  
I closed my eyes as I felt the plug shifting around inside of me. Anal play rarely felt as good as getting my pussy stimulated, but it still felt nice. And the thrill of showing my body off had already turned me on. If my nipples weren’t already stiff from needing to be milked, they’d be stiff from arousal. I had to make sure not to get myself too turned on, though. As deliciously debauched as it would be to masturbate to a screaming orgasm in front of all these strangers, that really wasn’t part of the show.  
  
Instead, I played with the tail plug for a few minutes, twirling it around and feeling the tail itself slap against my ass and thighs. Then I slid my hands to my hips, grabbing my backless panties. Well, it wasn’t as if they were covering anything anyways. I wasn’t losing anything by taking them off.  
  
My fingers undid the knots, letting the skimpy black fabric fall to the floor and revealing my pretty pink pussy. There was a huge wave of cheering at that and I smirked at the attention I was getting. I used the pole to climb back to my feet, throwing in a few shakes and stretches along the way to show off my body.  
  
Once I was up on my feet, wearing nothing more then my high heels, my thin stockings and the tail plug, it was time for finale. I turned back to the crowd, hands grabbing my boobs. I took a few steps towards the edge of the stage, and then sank back down to my knees. That way it was a lot easier for any appreciative customers to slide money into my stockings.  
  
Grabbing both boobs in my hands, I threw my head back, exaggerating how much pleasure I was getting from groping myself. Just groping wasn’t going to cut it. I needed to _milk_ myself to get the relief I so desperately needed. Ending the ache that had been building up inside me ever since I agreed to do this dance and not to milk myself.  
  
The music was so loud that even I had trouble hearing the bells hanging off of me. Still, they looked hot, and that was the real reason I was wearing them. They knocked against my hands as I slid them down, closer to my nipples.  
  
I squeezed down with my fingers, milking myself and letting the crowd of strangers watch me. It was a good thing I was already kneeling, because the surge of pleasure that shot through me when I started would have made me drop otherwise. It felt so good to finally have a chance to relieve the pressure in my breasts, to let my milk squirt out in warm white driblets that ran down my skin.  
  
I threw my head back, feeling my bare pussy getting damp as I milked myself. It seemed a pity to waste the milk like this, not having anyone around to drink it. But there would probably be a riot if I let one guy up to play with my body and not another, so I just had to stay up here by myself.  
  
My flow of milk had started just as dribbles running down the curves of my breasts. That was normal, and usually all that happened when I got milked. But I normally milked myself every day, or even twice a day. Right now, with half a week’s worth of milk stored up?  
  
After the first few dribbles opened up the tubes or however the exact mechanics worked, my sprays of milk started getting heavier and heavier. After a few squeezes, I was getting actual spurts of milk, shooting out from my body to land on the first row of seats in front of the stage.  
_  
I_ wouldn’t want milk, human or otherwise, landing on me and getting on my clothes. But management had been very clear about what would happen, and these guys still had paid a bit extra for front row access. It took all sorts, I guess. Although at least one guy I could see, right in front of me, was wearing a windbreaker, letting the occasional droplet of milk just slide off the surface.  
  
My concerns with the tastes of the guys in front of me took a backseat to my own pleasure. I felt _good_ , finally getting to drain my tits, letting the milk spurt out as I quivered in relief. It wasn’t often that I no-shit came just from milking myself, but I thought I’d push myself over the edge with just a few more squeezes.  
  
My pussy felt that funny combination of damp but not soaked that I associated with boobgasms and analgasms. If I had even those crotchless panties still, I would probably have soaked up all of it. But since that collection of two bits of floss and a postage stamp was a yard behind me, people were going to see my juices running down my thigh as I came from milking myself.  
  
“Oh, y- Moo! Mooooo!”  
  
I remembered to moo instead of moan just in the nick of time. I could feel my pussy spasming, trying to clench down around the dick that just wasn’t there. Not that there weren’t roughly fifty guys in front of me eager to volunteer their equipment so my folds could actually wrap themselves around something.  
  
My last few spurts, jets, really, of milk shot out even further, spurred on by my orgasm, I guessed. My thighs were quivering in orgasm and exhaustion as I stopped milking my breasts and started idly groping them. I slowed to a halt and just as slowly rose to my feet, though I stayed in a squat.  
  
There was a _lot_ of applause. Clapping, whistling, stomping feet, the whole nine yards. Just as good was as all the money getting thrown onto the stage. I grabbed as much as I could, stuffing it into my stockings. I could barely believe how much money people were showering me with just because I had showered them in milk.  
  
But I certainly wasn’t complaining. Sure, I didn’t really need it; I had barely even touched the bank money, which was about six times more then what I was grabbing. But it was a nice memento of how much the crowd had liked me.  
  
Finally, the flow of money died down. By then I had enough cash stuffed down my stockings that bills had been pushed down to my knees. I rose to my feet and bowed for the crowd, breasts swinging underneath me. The applause followed me off the stage.  
  
“Let’s all give a big yeeha for Tawnee the cowgirl,” the voice over the sound system said. “She’ll be here this time next week for another dance, so bring your cookies! If you’d like a private dance with her, come up to the bar to schedule it. Next up is the dexterous Destiny!”  
  
As soon as I got off the stage and out of sight, I leaned against the wall. Destiny flashed me a quick smile as she strutted out onto the stage, sequins glittering in the multi-colored beam of light that hit her. I was wiped out. A nice long sit down sounded like the perfect thing. Sadly, I probably only had a few minutes before my first private dance would start.  
  
Well, that was what the job demanded. At least Candi was there, offering me a helping hand. I gratefully took it as she led me down to the prep room at the end of the stage.  
  
“You were great, hon,” Candi said, smiling at me. “Most exotic thing on that stage since, well, fucked if I know. And it was pretty good for you too, eh?” She glanced down at my legs, where the money was making my stockings bulge unnaturally.  
  
“Well, if you want your share, just head up north and ask Nuture to pretty please pump you up with her drugs,” I said, quietly laughing. We passed into the prep room, with a surprisingly few amount of people in it getting ready for their dances.  
  
“Yeah, I’ll probably pass on that,” Candi said. She maneuvered me into a chair, and I sat down with a relieved sigh. “Get some rest. I’m sure someone will be wanting to ride a cowgirl pretty soon.”  
  
I nodded and closed my eyes. Damn, that had been a good show. I’d need to do something nice for Lisa to thank her for talking me into this. Maybe that bondage thing, if she could schedule that milking session around my special shows.  
  
Well, I was sure I’d think of something. Friends needed to look out for friends, after all.

  
*******

  
“How’s it hanging, Superhero-in-Training?”  
  
“Pretty good, Superhero.”  
  
Emma and Sophia grinned at each other. Emma wasn’t dressed up in the height of fashion for Winslow, for once. Instead, she was wearing some dark, loose clothes that didn’t show off her many charms at all. But, for what they were doing, that was perfect.  
  
“Ready for some more power practice?” Sophia asked as she switched on some bright lights and covering the windows. Her actions left the room starkly divided into cones of light separated by black, shadowy pools.  
  
“Got to be better then the physical training,” Emma said with a laugh. “Push-ups suck.”  
  
Sophia grunted in amusement as she finished setting up the practice course. When she turned back around to face Emma, she ‘coincidentally’ flexed her arms, showing off the muscles corded along them.  
  
“Well, maybe we don’t have to do that today.” She waved behind her at the home-made training course. “You ready to rock?”  
  
“Sure thing,” Emma replied, backing up a few steps. Then she started running towards the nearest pool of shadow.  
  
Having powers was awesome. How she had gotten those powers, that was a lot less awesome. But now that Emma had a knock-off of Shadow Stalker’s abilities, she was going to use them to the fullest. She and Sophia were already planning what her costume would look like, once they started going on patrols together.  
  
The two of them could work together pretty well. Sophia’s preference for darkness was right there in her name, _Shadow Stalker_. Sure, a large part of that was how she looked like a tarry shadow when she transformed, but it still counted.  
  
Both Emma and Sophia agreed that Shadow Stalker was a much better name for Emma and her powerset then for Sophia and hers. However, since the name was already taken, Emma had to come with a new name, and hadn’t yet.  
  
It would probably have Shadow in it, since that was how Emma could move around. Put a foot or a hand or even a few inches of hair in shadow, and Emma could move around in it. The darker and larger the shadow was, the farther and faster she could travel. Right up until it became _black_ instead of a shadow, in which case Emma would get thrown out of it. They were still trying to figure out where the exact line between darkness and shadow was.  
  
The only real downside, beyond the limit, was how strongly electricity worked on Emma. It fucking _hurt_ , even when a baseball bat swung at her just tickled. Still, if that was Emma’s only weakness, she was willing to live with it. She and Sophia could still kick ass among all the sheep and scum at night anyways, being real heroes.  
  
And when they were off the clock? Well, Emma could think of several ways her powers would help her get back at that slug Taylor. As awesome as her shadow walk was, Emma still wasn’t going to forgive Taylor for trying to mess her up enough to _get_ those powers.  
  
Even as Emma flowed through the shadows and avoided the flashlight Sophia was using to catch her, she felt her insubstantial facial features twist in a grimace. She still felt angry over seeing flat, slow, stupid Taylor with such a fine figure of a man. Just because she had somehow gotten plastic surgery to look like a freak with those cans, she thought she could upstage Emma and get a hot boyfriend?  
Emma didn’t get quite as angry thinking about now as she had been, but she still found her thoughts lingering on the humiliation Taylor had visited upon her, and what she could do to pay the bitch back. Emma didn’t shake with outrage like that day in the park, when she had run away so fast, dipping through the shadows, that not even Sophia could keep up. But she still felt an acid churning in her gut at the thought.  
  
When she had finally stopped running, dropping back into three-dimensional existence inside an alley, she had fallen to her knees. Sophia had caught up with her a few minutes later. Emma had heard her stop, looking at Emma’s keeling, shaking form. But her friend had the tact not to comment and just rested her arm across Emma’s shoulder, in the closest she had ever gotten to giving Emma a hug.  
  
Emma had kept her face turned away from Sophia as she slowly mastered herself. This pathetic display wasn’t something someone of her stature should be doing, after all. She was a wolf among sheep, not a sheep among wolves. Her heaving shoulders, roiling gut and twitching legs weren’t how she should be acting at all. She just needed to tell herself that and make it stick.  
  
After ten minutes or so, Emma had gotten herself under control. She stood up and brushed herself off, before turning to Sophia. Sophia had a tight, hungry grin that Emma usually saw just before Sophia lowered the mask and went on a hunt through the city.  
  
“Looks like my nights are going to be a lot more fun,” Sophia said, pretending that the previous few minutes hadn’t happened. “A partner who gets how the world should work is going to really make things better.”  
  
Emma had nodded, smiling. It was a shaky smile at first, but it steadily grew firmer and firmer. It was just like Sophia, to be thinking ahead about what this would mean for her nights out in costume.  
  
That was then, and this was now. Both Emma and Sophia thought she would soon be ready to join Sophia on her nightly patrols, striking fear in the hearts of the various sad sacks in the city. And once Emma had a good handle on how best to fuck people up… It would be time to pay a little visit to Taylor, to talk about this and that. Like how Taylor thought she had the right to have a boyfriend.  
  
The sweet thought of that almost made Emma slide into a pool of light. She caught herself in time, but wasn’t fast enough to avoid Sophia’s flashlight. The beam swept over her, forcing Emma into her normal body. Emma frowned and beat a fist against her thigh. Again, Taylor had fucked her up.  
  
“Come on, Ems. That only took a few minutes. Can’t you do better?” Sophia called out. Emma couldn’t see her through the pools of dark shadow and beams of hot white light separating the two of them.  
  
“Sorry,” Emma replied, not feeling terribly sorry. “Just got distracted thinking about stuff.”  
  
There was a sigh from across the room. Emma flushed, but kept on looking at where it sounded like Sophia was.  
  
“Do I need to tell you about when to think and when to fight again?”  
  
“No,” Emma said quickly, feeling blood in her cheeks. “It was just a mistake. It won’t happen again.”  
  
“I hope so,” Sophia said with a tired tone in her voice. “Come on, let’s try it again.”  
  
Emma waited until Sophia’s flashlight found her body again, and then leaped into the nearest shadow. It was deep and dark, letting her move it through it easily. Sophia’s beam started hunting her, but Emma was already moving. If she could get far enough ahead of Sophia’s flashlight, she was thinking she might loop around her friend and give her a surprise. Grab her shoulders, and then leap back to avoid the elbow blow that would be coming.  
  
In her insubstantial state, Emma smiled. She and Sophia were going to go far together.

  
  
***Noncanon Omakes***

  
I was starting to think sticking in school hadn’t been a good idea. One, Emma and her band were still around, trying to fuck with me (fucking me might, barely, have been acceptable. But they weren’t doing that.) Second, I could devote a proper amount of attention to school, Club Lango and the Undersiders only if I didn’t need to do minor things like eat or sleep or not snap from all the stress.  
  
Thirdly, and most annoying, was how every male in the school (and I wasn’t just counting students) stared at me. Or at my chest. Their gazes rarely rose to my face. Most of them didn’t even know what my name was (Tina, Tyler, Hey You, *drool*), they just asked my boobs out for a date. I was invited along mostly as a way to get my breasts from one place to another.  
  
To a certain extent, I was familiar with this sort of behavior, what with the whole strip club thing. But, one, there was no chance of the kind of money I got at Club Lango appearing, and two, there were plenty of other attractive, skimpily dressed women at the club to help draw attention away from me.  
  
Here, I was on my own. I was certainly the most sexualized girl here (something that was probably grinding Emma’s gears in a way she would never, never admit to). Something I was sure Emma would be using somehow, as soon as she got her mental bearings. Lisa had said she had a plan about that, but she hadn’t shared the details with me yet.  
  
“So, hey,… girl,” some overmuscled athlete said, his gaze never rising above my shoulders, “Would you like to go see a movie with me this afternoon? Just the two of us, alone in the theater, dim lights,” he licked his lips, obviously imagining that I was as slutty as my body looked.  
  
Okay, so I was, but that didn’t mean I appreciated getting leered at and clumsily propositioned without even any money coming my way.  
  
“Sorry,” I said in a flat tone. “I need to wash my fish tonight. So sorry.”  
  
Turning my back on him, I walked towards the school exit. I frowned, sensing the bugs I had placed on Emma and Sophia hanging around near the exit I was going for. Find another way around? Maybe, but I didn’t like to give them a victory like that. Push past them, and just let their barbs bounce off of me? Maybe. Emma’s emotional taunts were getting less effective as I got to spend time away from her, but Sophia’s physical attacks would be a lot more effective.  
  
I slowed down, which the jock behind me took as an invitation to keep on trying to get into my pants. I could hear him quickly walking up behind me, and a hand fell on my shoulder. I turned around, a hard look on my face.  
  
“So, rethinking the offer of a date with the Lee-ster?” he asked with what I supposed he thought was a charming grin. “The mall theater has this great new horror film out, _Jack-o’-lantern the Sixth_. If you ever get scared baby, you can just hold onto me and I’ll protect you.”  
  
I stared at him, not sure quite how to express what I thought of his offer. I had picked up a lot of swearwords from the Undersiders and Club Lango, but somehow, he didn’t quite seem worth them. I also had to at least be aware of how a self-absorbed jackass would take a rejection. Just because I was used to getting punched by asshole athletes didn’t mean I wanted it to happen. And he looked like he had a lot more upper-body strength then Sophia did.  
  
Then a solution appeared, right on the edge of my power’s range. I’d given a few ladybugs to Lisa, just in case she ever needed some help at the club with a customer. Those bugs were now getting closer and closer to me, moving at a speed that said she was riding some kind of vehicle.  
  
Perfect. Even if Lisa didn’t come inside to bust out some verbal destruction, I could still get a ride with her and avoid either walking or taking the bus, either of which would let the jock keep on pestering me.  
  
I started walking towards the exit, more than willing to deal with Emma and her bunch if it meant getting to Lisa quicker. The athlete walked besides me, obviously seeing my movement as agreement.  
  
I saw Greg Veder standing near one of the walls, books clutched to his chest. He was alternating between leering at me, and glaring at the jock next to me. Sad to say, spending time with Greg was likely to be a downgrade. Sure, I’d certainly be able to beat him off if he went for my boobs, unlike the jock. But he was also way more likely to go for my breasts then the jock was. A bad sense of what was acceptable on Greg’s part, and an arrogant conviction that he’d be getting access to them soon enough on the jock’s. What a wonderful school I went to.  
  
“Not interested pal,” I said, hoping that this would be blunt enough to get the idea through his skull. “I’ve already got a boyfriend. Goodbye.”  
  
I turned my back on him, missing whatever range of emotions were going across his face. Oh, and joy of joys, Emma, Sophia, and a few of their friends were close enough to have overheard me. A look of shock washed across Emma’s face, before an ugly smirk replaced it.  
  
“Can you believe that _Taylor Hebert_ has a boyfriend,” Emma said, turning to Sophia. Her tone was light, bright, and dripping with venom. “What do you think she has to do just to keep him looking at her?”  
  
“Wear a paper bag over her head, for starters,” Sophia said, amusement lurking on her voice. “I’d know I’d throw up if I had to kiss a slab of rotten meat like her.”  
  
“I bet the boyfriend’s just as ugly,” one of their friends, whose name I’d never learned, tittered. “He probably makes Greg over there look like a movie star.”  
  
All of them burst out laughing. The jock had fallen behind me, and now was turning away. Obviously, he didn’t want to associate with someone as suddenly uncool as me.  
  
I did my best to ignore them as I walked on past. They weren’t worth it, I kept on telling myself. Even so, the temptation to turn around and let them know how hot Brian was and how hot he found me burned within me, making my stomach turn over on itself.  
  
The crowd of cackling harpies didn’t try to stop me as I pushed through the double doors and stepped outside. Instead, they fell in behind me, coming up with more and more ideas of the disgusting things I’d do just to keep my ugly boyfriend looking at me. Part of me was amused by the idea of some of the things they were suggesting being horrible. A blowjob every day? Yeah, _that_ was some kind of huge, degrading sacrifice.  
  
Mostly, though, I just go angrier and angrier, my desire to stay calm and unaffected rapidly eroding as I listened to them insult Brian. I’d gotten resigned to Emma mocking me, but it was somehow a lot worse to hear them ripping into Brian like this.  
  
I could tell that Lisa was turning the corner to get onto the street in front of me. I turned my head, looking for her. I wondered what kind of vehicle she was in. She had never mentioned being able to drive, and I just couldn’t see her riding a bicycle.  
  
When she came into view, my jaw dropped. Less because of Lisa, and more because of who she was with. She was sitting on the back part of a motorcycle, her arms wrapped around Brian. Brian, well, Brian was wearing his Grue costume with a regular motorcycle helmet swapped out for his demon one.  
  
Maybe it was because I wanted some love and affection from him right now, but I could swear I saw his muscles straining underneath his leathers in a way they never seemed to regularly. I changed my course, walking straight towards him. And Lisa, who was climbing off the bike and twirling a spare helmet around as she grinned past me.  
  
I was sure that Emma and Sophia were following me, but all of a sudden, it was like their taunts and jibs were in another language. I picked up my pace, walking quickly, almost running over to Brian as he pulled the helmet off. He stepped off the bike and held his arms open wide.  
  
I launched myself into them, wrapping my own arms around his body in a big hug. It felt nice to feel his firm muscle underneath my arms. I squeezed tightly, feeling the leather shift underneath me. He hugged me in return, wrapping me up nice and tight in his arms. I luxuriated in the sensation for a few seconds, before wanting even more.  
  
I pulled my head back from the joint of his shoulder and neck and lifted my face up. Brian was looking down at me, a soft smile on his firm features. I leaned up for a kiss, pressing my lips against him. He eagerly responded, opening his mouth to let my tongue slide in.  
  
It felt great to kiss Brian, feeling the love and acceptance we had for each other flowing back and forth between us. But we couldn’t stay pressed together forever, sadly. Eventually, we had to pull back a bit to catch our breath.  
  
And then, two seconds later, we were kissing again. I pressed my body against him, feeling his muscles shift underneath the leather as he leaned into the kiss. I could feel Brian’s large, strong hands on my back, slowly running around in little circles. I was quite willing for him to grab my ass, but he was too much of a gentleman to do that.  
  
I wasn’t enough of a lady to do the same. I grabbed that ass, feeling even more muscles underneath my fingers and the leather as we tried to suck the air out of each other’s lungs. When we finally pulled a few inches apart, my cheeks were flushed and I was pretty damn horny.  
  
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lisa grinning. Unlike Brian, she wasn’t dressed up in leather, as fine of a sight as that would have been. Except for the brightly colored helmet she had on, she looked like she belonged on the Boardwalk, flitting from store to store. Either she had a lot more faith in Brian’s ability to avoid accidents then he did, or she had dressed him up in the leathers solely because of how hot he looked in them. From the grin playing on her face, I was betting on the second.  
  
Seeing that she had my attention, Lisa significantly glanced over my shoulder. Ah yes, Emma, Sophia and the rabble. I told myself I should be the better woman and not gloat over what I had just done. But you know what? Screw it, I had spent over a year and half dealing with those bitches, their bullying, their attacks, every fucking thing about them. I was _not_ going to be the bigger woman right now and I _was_ going to gloat.  
  
I turned my head to look at the girls. Sophia and the others, but mostly Emma. And it was so, so sweet. She had a twitch across one side of her face and her hands were balled up into fists at her side. I couldn’t recall ever seeing her so angry before.  
  
I wondered what she was going to do next. Storm away with her nose in a sling? Try to attack me in front of Brian or Lisa, or have Sophia do it? Pretend that nothing had happened? I was willing to bet she’d try the last later on, once she was thinking a bit more clearly.  
  
I seriously considered calling out to her, some nasty comment about how much Brian and I loved each other. But I decided not to. That would be layering it on too much. Better to not show how much of this was planned specifically to upstage her (and I had no idea how Lisa had known about this, and managed to plan everything so neatly and quickly.)  
  
Breaking the hug with Brian, I reached out to grab the helmet Lisa offered. It, like hers, was a brightly colored, open face helmet, obviously designed to show off how cute the wearer was, as opposed to how badass the wearer was like Brian’s. And it was a constant struggle to think of him as Brian like this, not as Grue. Those leathers were really throwing me off my game.  
  
I climbed onto the bike, sandwiched between Lisa and Brian. I lost no time at all in wrapping my arms around Brian’s waist, holding him in a tight hug. Lisa did the same to me, her hands wrapped around my stomach. As Brian kicked the engine on, I raised my voice so they could hear me over the roar of the motor.  
  
“Thanks. Both of you, thanks a ton. I-,” I trailed off, not sure how to express the wellspring of love and affection I felt for both of them right now. “I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I’ll pay both of you back for this. It’s-.”  
  
I was cut off as Brian pulled away from the sidewalk. The wind in my face felt nice, and Lisa’s fingers pressed to my lips stopped me from saying anymore.  
  
“Hey, it’s just what friends do for each other,” Lisa said, a grin in her voice. “Or even more than friends. Right Brian?” She raised her voice so he could hear through his helmet and over the wind.  
  
I smiled again and relaxed in between my friends and lovers. I was touched more than I could say by this. I was lucky to have two such wonderful people in my life.

  
*******

  
This had to be the best party idea Max had ever had, Joey thought. Plenty of food, beer, music… And, best of all, the two sexy ladies that had been brought in. Joey had already had a turn with the older one, taking her for a spin in one of the frat house’s upstairs bedrooms. As for the other one, the one with the huge tits? Joey, and the rest of the frat house, had all fucked her more than once.  
  
Joey popped open a beer and passes it over to Rory. His, well, _friend_ , was pushing it, let’s say the reason the party was called, was looking a lot better. Not so many gloomy sighs and shit. Max sure had gotten the right idea, setting up this party to make Rory forget all about the bitch who had dumped him.  
  
“You going for another round on the chick?” Joey asked, nodding over Rory’s shoulder to the kitchen. He could just see the cum splattered legs of the second girl through the doorway, hanging off of the kitchen table.  
  
Rory took a sip from his can and nodded. Clearing his throat, he spoke up. “Yeah, in a little bit. Need a few moments to recover, you know?”  
  
Joey smiled and nodded. His own dick was feeling a little bit sore. Who could have thought a girl could take so much cock so close together and still feel so tight wrapped around him?  
  
“Sure thing. Just glad to see that you’re feeling better, man.”  
  
Joey patted Rory on the shoulder and went into the kitchen. Another guy was in between the girl’s thighs, slamming into her pussy. Joey didn’t know or really care what her name was. What really mattered was that she was a hot piece of ass, and that he’d be ready for another round soon enough.  
  
But for right now, he had a better idea. Joey pulled out his phone and pulled up the video camera. Panning it down towards the whore Max had hired, he nodded in satisfaction. Her cum-covered face showed up fine on the camera.  
  
“Hey, slut,” Joey called out, taking another sip of his beer. “Smile for the birdy! You’re on camera.”  
  
The big-boobed whore didn’t give any indication she had heard him. Maybe there was too much cum covering her ears. Just like every other part of her body, really. Joey smirked as he admired the hard work that he and the rest of the frat house had put into covering this slut with so much thick cum.  
  
The bimbo’s face had cum coated on it. Her eyes sockets were nothing more than two white pools from where all the cum had been shot. And Joey, and Joey’s camera, could see a steady flow of cum running off of her white cheeks down onto the kitchen table. Her mouth was more or less clear, but that was because whoever wanted a blowjob would just shove his cock past the lines of cum connecting her lips.  
  
As for her chest, well, there was a lot of chest to cover. But Joey’s bros had risen to the challenge like champs. Each of the stripper’s tits had semen smeared all over it, all the way from those hard nipples at the top, down to the base where they connected with the shoulders and ribs. It was a hot sight, and Joey felt his cock stir inside his pants as he stared at them. Of course, cans that size would be hot to look at even when they weren’t covered in cum.  
  
Joey had never seen breasts that looked that damn good. Huge, and yet they didn’t sag even a bit. From his earlier round with her, he knew they had a wonderful mix of softness and firmness, that just invited more and more attention being paid to them. And getting to cum on them had been even better.  
  
And the whore’s crotch had even more cum on it then her face did. Joey hoped the bitch was on birth control, otherwise she’d be having a kid with a dozen different daddies. Everyone in the frat house had tried out her cunt, and none of them had bothered wearing a condom. Most of them, Joey included, had shot their load inside her pussy, although I few had helpfully decorated her stomach with their loads instead.  
  
The girl was covered with cum, from head to toe. Joey hoped that she’d be tasting and smelling it for the next week solid, a constant reminder of how hard she had been fucked by the college fraternity. It was what somebody like her deserved. Someone who would take so much cock deserved to be reminded of it even after she left the house.  
  
And she loved cock. Joey couldn’t remember a chick who had needed dick like this since the 2009 Winslow cheerleading squad. And now he was picturing this babe in a cheerleader’s outfit, doing one of the team’s off the record chants about how much they all wanted to get fucked.  
  
Sadly, it seemed that this chick had moved right past begging for cock and into getting it. Oh well, Joey could always imagine her waving some pompoms around later, whenever he was feeling horny and didn’t have any female company around to ride him. Or just use this video as fuel for his masturbation needs.  
  
Some of the other guys had gotten the same idea as him. Their phones were out, recording the slut getting fucked by the guy between her thighs, and the evidence of all the other guys who had already fucked her. Calls for her to smile for the camera were coming fast as the fraternity jostled for a better spot to record her.  
  
And the whore was getting into it. She raised her hands to give dual thumbs-up signs, and Joey thought he could see her lips curving upwards into a smile underneath the cum covering her lips. She even started moving around more, instead of just letting whoever was fucking her do all the work.  
  
Joey’s cock was getting hard again for the third or fourth time as he watched the slut get into starring in homemade porn. Maybe he’d be featuring in it too, having another round with… her ass, he thought. She’d gone way beyond sloppy seconds by now, and Joey was in the mood for a less filled hole.  
  
Of course, there was always the other stripper who had come with her, but Joey was in the mood for someone younger then him, not older. In fact, he had no idea where the other stripper (Candy, he thought) was, and he couldn’t be bothered to go looking for her, not when this slut was right here in front of him.  
  
Joey wished he had gotten the idea to start recording the whore before she had gotten so covered in cum that she looked like she’d been dipped in white paint. He really loved porn videos where the slut got more and more covered with cum as she got less and less dressed. Hell, right now, you couldn’t even make out the features of the bitch’s face, there was so much semen from so many guys covering it.  
  
Well, maybe they could drag her to a shower, get her cleaned up in there. And then, once she had gotten the cum off of her, the frat house could have some more fun in bukkaking her again. Maybe get that other stripper in to pretend the two of them were mother and daughter.  
  
Joey was surprised sometimes at how clever he was.

  
*******

  
*Smack* “Eight!” *Smack* “Ni-nine!” *Smack* “Ten!”  
  
Victoria lowered the paddle, staring down at the red, upturned ass of the stripper on the bed in front of her. She had to admit, she felt _good_. Who knew that being a dominatrix would be so soul-satisfying?  
  
“Now, what do you say?” Victoria asked in a sweetly saccharine tone.  
  
“I’m,” Tawnee shuddered, “I’m sorry for being a big-boobed floozy who tried to steal your man, Miss Glory Girl. Thank you for showing me the error of my ways.”  
  
“Mmh, and you even managed to sound sincere that time,” Victoria said, fingering the paddle. “Just how sorry are you?”  
  
“I’m very, very sorry, Miss Glory Girl,” Tawnee said, turning her head so she could look up at Victoria. There were tears on her cheeks, and Victoria was worried for an instance that she had been spanking the stripper too hard. But she hadn’t given the safe word yet. “How do you want me to apologize?”  
  
Victoria stared down at the dark-haired stripper, her flushed cheeks, her spread legs. For a moment, Victoria was tempted to abandon the script and just start fucking Tawnee right here and now. But Victoria had put a lot of work into writing this scenario, and she wasn’t ready for all her work to go to waste yet.  
  
“Maybe…” Victoria said, tapping her fingers on her chin. “But just words wouldn’t be enough, would they? You’d need to _show_ me you were sorry.”  
  
Victoria licked her lips as she looked down at Tawnee’s upturned ass. Who would have thought bondage could be so fun? But the cuffs and paddle she had rented from the club had made this night so, so much better than it would have been without them.  
  
The way Tawnee’s wrists were cuffed to her ankles, forcing her ass up in the air and her face down on the bed, was a treat to behold. She had even squirmed around and acted like she was trying to escape while Victoria had torn her clothing off and tied her up. And then when the spanking had started, well, it was obvious that Tawnee had liked getting it almost as much as Victoria had liked giving it.  
  
Victoria realized her fingers were running around Tawnee’s wet lower lips. Shaking her head, she withdrew her fingers. And was that a frustrated sigh from the stripper? Well, Victoria would give her something else to use her mouth on soon enough.  
  
Sighing, Victoria reached down and grabbed Tawnee’s body. With her strength, it was the work of a moment to flip her around, putting the stripper on her back. Victoria took a moment to admire the huge boobs that were revealed in this position. She wouldn’t want tits that size, but it sure was nice to admire them on someone else.  
  
Victoria had to admit, Tawnee looked kind of silly in this position. Her bent legs were sticking up into the air, and since her hands were shackled to her ankles, her straight arms formed a geometric shape when combined with her torso. Well, the important thing about this position was that it opened up the stripper’s mouth.  
  
Rather than crawling around on the bed like a savage, Victoria rose up into the air, using her powers of flight for the pettiest reason imaginable. Well, not exactly the pettiest. That would be times when the tile floor of the kitchen was cold in the morning and Victoria didn’t want to put on socks. But using her parahuman powers just to better position herself on a stripper’s body had to be pretty petty.  
  
But Victoria was doing it anyways, holding up her skirt just enough to let Tawnee see her crotch. And Victoria had even shaved her pubic hair off, in imitation of Tawnee. There was just something so sexy about seeing that bare stretch of skin, that Victoria had felt compelled to imitate the other girl.  
  
Victoria settled down on top of Tawnee, her pussy pressed against the dark-haired girl’s mouth. Victoria was fairly damp, a result of how much she had enjoyed spanking Tawnee. And while she had deeply enjoyed the stripper’s moans, squeals and breathless apologies, she was also looking forward to what other kinds of things Tawnee could do with her tongue.  
  
“If you lick me out,” Victoria said, “If you show you understand that Dean’s cock belongs in my perfect pussy instead of your whorish mouth, maybe I’ll forgive you then.”  
  
Victoria could feel the lust bubbling in her spike as she described how Tawnee would be apologizing to her. It wasn’t exactly that Victoria was upset over Dean fucking Tawnee, or even over how smug Tawnee had acted while she’d been getting fucked. But the idea had been planted in Victoria’s head as she got railed by Carlos and Rory and watching Tawnee get fucked by her boyfriend.  
  
So, a couple days after the orgy, she had come back to the club and scheduled a ‘private dance’ with Tawnee. It had been quite amusing when the stripper had come through the door and seen who her client was. But she was professional enough to take it in stride, and had even suggested a few alterations to Victoria’s scenario.  
  
“Mmth, Mth Mmmy Mil,” Tawnee muttered, her lips already pressed against Victoria’s slit.  
  
Victoria shivered in pleasure at the vibrations from the muffled ‘Yes, Miss Glory Girl’. Tawnee could be so respectful when the situation called for it. And all it had taken was ten strokes to each ass cheek to put her in the proper frame of mind.  
  
Reaching down in between her thighs, Victoria played with some strands of Tawnee’s hair, running the dark locks through her fingers. She had to admit, Tawnee had some nice, long dark hair. Victoria thought she could do a pretty good sexy office lady or teacher, if only her boobs were smaller. Those cans were just too big for her to really pull off any role where she had to be intimidating or badass.  
  
Still, they suited her current line of work. And Tawnee was _very_ skilled at it. Her tongue was driving Victoria to distraction, working absolute magic on Victoria’s pussy and clit. Victoria took several deep breaths, centering herself. As fun as it would be to just sit on Tawnee’s face and let her lick her to several orgasms, Victoria still had a lot more script to get through.  
  
Glancing at her palm, where she had had the foresight to record several different reminders, Victoria took a deep breath. Her first sentence was nothing more than a squeak as Tawnee coincidentally flicked her clit at the exact moment Victoria was ready to start talking. Fighting down the blush, Victoria tried again.  
  
“You better be feeling properly sorry, you little tramp,” Victoria said, shifting her hips back and forth slightly. “I can’t believe someone like you _ever_ thought you could compete with me.” Victoria had to pause for a second as pleasure raced through her. “The bond Dean and I have goes so much better then mere sex, and I’m better than you even at that.”  
  
Victoria glanced at her palm again, trying to remember her next line. Tawnee’s tongue was enjoyably distracting, muddling her thoughts as the stripper licked and sucked at Victoria’s increasingly wet folds. Victoria stared at her palm for a minute, trying to figure out what the hell she had written. Finally giving up on deciphering the smeared scrawls on her palm, she decided to wing it.  
  
“I’m the hottest superheroine in Brockton Bay,” Victoria said, swishing her hair around, “I go on TV interviews, street vendors sell t-shirts with my face on them,” (and didn’t give a cent to her, something that a minor if constant source of disgruntlement to Victoria), “hell, I even get asked to model stuff. That you thought there was ever the slightest chance of your lewd body stealing Dean away is, is, oohhh!”  
  
Victoria shook on top of Tawnee as she came. Tawnee had patiently licked and sucked at Victoria’s folds without end, even without using her hands. And it had all paid off. Victoria’s hips jerked back and forth as she moaned in pleasure, feeling the orgasmic lust sweeping through her. She could feel her arousal escaping her, pouring onto Tawnee’s face.  
  
Victoria’s hands dug into the bed as her eyes went wide. Strangled, breathy sounds escaped her lips as she shook in her orgasm. When her head finally cleared, she slowly, gingerly lifted herself off of Tawnee’s face, already missing the feel of the girl’s tongue on her lower lips.  
  
Now that  Victoria had cum Tawnee had properly apologized, it was time to reward Tawnee for being a good girl. Victoria didn’t actually know the first thing about how to eat out another girl, and she wasn’t going to ruin the roleplay by showing off her inexperience. Instead, she’d be using the vibrator wand she had rented from the club to pay the other girl back.  
  
Victoria switched the wand on, appreciating the humming buzz coming from it. There was no reason to untie Tawnee just yet. Maybe after she’d seen just how wet the stripper could get from a toy, Victoria would. Then again, maybe not.  
  
Tawnee had sounded convincing enough, but Victoria was thinking she might have to bring Dean in so the stripper could apologize to him too.


	8. Chapter 8

  
Amy felt blissfully lightheaded, like her head was stuffed with cotton candy. Normally, Amy would have accepted that as a sign she needed to go take a twenty minute nap in the hospital lounge. But since that involve walking two and half miles to Our Lady of Mercy, Amy was up for some other things to focus on.  
  
Like what Sara was doing to her. Amy had never met someone who was so good at making a woman’s body feel so good. She was sure she didn’t even need Victoria’s aura of joy to feel good. And since Amy’s sister was less radiating her pleasure and more broadcasting it, Amy was literally feeling better than she ever had before.  
  
In fact, the only way she could feel better was if that evil bitch Sara would let her _cum_ , instead of just teasing her so wonderfully. And endlessly. It had been… Amy was feeling too fuzzy to tell when exactly she had last cum. But it had been a while, even though the pleasure had never once stopped.  
  
Amy couldn’t decide if she wanted to look back behind, up at Sara who was taking her doggy style with a double-ended dildo. Or if she wanted to keep looking forward, at the only man who ever had and ever would fuck her. And also Dean’s current partner, that big-boobed bimbo Trashy.  
  
Okay, maybe that wasn’t _actually_ her name, or even the name she had introduced herself with, but Amy thought it fit pretty good. After all, with knockers that big, and makeup that caked on, trashy was a pretty good summation of what the whore riding Dean’s cock looked like. And who else but a born to be bred slut would be able to keep on fucking for so long? Dean was on his third second wind, curtesy of Amy. But she hadn’t even touched Tawnee, the stripper obviously finding enough energy in fucking to just keep going and going.  
  
Amy’s generous characterizations of her fellow woman was cut short as Sara started groping her butt. Again. The blonde had been all over Amy’s ass ever since they got into this position. And a couple of early positions that had let her get at Amy’s butt.  
  
“Seriously, Panacea,” Sara said teasingly. “This perfect bubble butt,” her fingers sank into Amy’s lower cheeks to show what rear she was talking about, “is wasted, hidden behind those robes you wear. You should change your costume to a miniskirt. Maybe some daisy dukes.”  
  
Amy tried to picture just how her costume could get modified to show off her rear. Her imagination failed utterly. Any further efforts she might have made to visualize it were cut short by Sara ramping up her playing.  
  
Amy squealed as she felt something prod against an orifice that had always been an exit and not an entrance. She whipped her head around and tried to look at what Sara was doing. Even as she did so, she could feel _it_ , whatever it was, pressing against her anus. She could tell it was cool and slippery and _big_. With the bigness the most worrying part of the whole thing.  
  
And it kept on getting bigger. Amy could feel it increasing in girth as it went further inside her, although she couldn’t get a good look at it. By the time she had twisted her head far enough around to glare at Sara, enough of it was inside her all Amy could see was Sara’s hand.  
  
“What, gah, do you think you’re doing, Sara…” Amy realized she didn’t know Sara’s last name. Or, to be honest, her first name. Time to pull out a phrase her mother used. “Young lady?”  
  
Sara snickered as she kept on pushing the toy in. Amy felt her own face flush, embarrassment outweighing arousal and discomfort. In fact, the discomfort was steadily decreasing, even as more and more of Amy’s ass was stretched around the object. Amy didn’t like what she thought that said about herself, and tried to pull away.  
  
Even as Amy tried to get away from the iron grip on one hip Sara had, she could feel the blonde finish. Suddenly, the size of the thing narrowed. Or the part closest to Amy’s rear did. The rest of it, deeper inside her, was as big as ever.  
  
“What did you do to me?” Amy asked, reaching behind her with a questioning hand. She could feel something round and plastic covering her asshole.  
  
“Oh, just put a buttplug inside you,” Sara replied flippantly, like it wasn’t any big thing.  
  
“What!?” Amy screeched as she spun around on all fours, glaring at Sara with all the fury of ten thousand suns.  
  
That was the plan, at least. Along the way, the plug inside her shifted as Amy moved. Amy completed the revolution, but her scolding turned into a moaning. Sara giggled at the look on Amy’s face as the plug buried inside her stimulated the healer.  
  
It was almost enough to let Amy cum, after so long hovering right on the brink of her climax. But it, just barely, wasn’t enough, and Amy could feel her arousal draining away. Amy closed her mouth and then opened it again, her gaze flicking down to the black dildo poking out from between Sara’s thighs. It was still slick with Amy’s dew.  
  
And then Sara tugged it out of her, revealing that her side was just as covered with arousal. She looked down at Amy and smirked, significantly looking around the room. That was enough to get Amy to do the same, pouting all the while.  
  
It looked like everyone was winding down. Tawnee had collapsed backwards onto the bed, chest jiggling as her and Dean moaned in mutual orgasm. And over in the center of the room, Amy could see her sister, while still impaled on Carlos’s and Rory’s cocks, was no longer bouncing up and down as energetically.  
  
“Just wait here, baby. I’ll be back in a minute,” Sara whispered into a distracted Amy’s ear.  
  
Amy’s examination of her fellow orgy members gave Sara the chance to slip off the bed. Amy’s head snapped around to the blonde as Sara strutted over to the display of sex toys against the wall. Amy quickly decided that whatever Sara was doing over there wasn’t nearly as important as the chance for Amy to get this plug out of her.  
  
Reaching behind herself, Amy started tugging at the plug. And immediately stopped. Her eyes widened as the tug made the toy shift around inside her. Amy’s tightly pressed together lips barely kept her whimper from being heard.  
  
Amy attempted to work up the courage to try again. And then her plans were shot out of the water as Sara bent over at the waist, showing off her own perfect bubble butt. Amy’s jaw went slack and she almost had to wipe away some drool as she stared.  
  
By the time Amy got herself together enough to close her mouth and try to remove the plug again, it was too late. Sara had turned back around, hiding one hand behind her back. She cockily smirked at Amy as she walked past the healer, shifting slightly to keep whatever she was hiding from Amy’s view.  
  
Stopping in front of the Victoria sandwich, (and Amy could see cum dripping out of her sister’s holes, even with two cocks plugging her up) Sara turned back to smile at Amy. She brought her hand out from behind her back, revealing a very big, very thick dildo attached to a big base. She leaned in to whisper something to the threesome. After a few seconds, all three of them smiled and nodded agreement.  
  
Sara turned back to the room and whistled. That got Dean’s and Tawnee’s attention, and soon Sara was the center of attention. A position she obviously enjoyed.  
  
“We’ve all been having a lot of fun tonight, right?” There were chuckles from around the room, mostly from the boys. “But it’s getting late, so why don’t we close things off with something special? Amy, Tawnee, get over here.” Tawnee climbed off of the bed while Amy waited, wanting to hear what exactly was about to happen. “How about you studs give us ladies a group facial?”  
  
Almost everyone in the room, including Tawnee, brightened up at that. Amy was a lot less sure. Yes, Dean hadn’t felt nearly as bad inside her as she had thought. But she was still a lesbian. That came with certain expectations. Like liking girls and not guys.  
  
Amy opened her mouth to try and explain that, while getting sandwiched in between Victoria and Sara would be very hot, getting covered in cum would not be. Before she could actually say anything, Tawnee was dragging her towards the center of the room. Amy squeaked and was forced to follow the surprisingly strong stripper.  
  
“No, listen, I-!”  
  
Amy’s incoherent protestations were cut off as they arrived in the center of the room. More precisely, they were cut off as Sara planted a kiss right on Amy’s lips. Amy blinked, and almost melted into the kiss. Sadly, Sara pulled away too quickly, leaving Amy to dazedly blink and try to get her breath back.  
  
A distraction Sara made good use of. Amy hadn’t recovered before getting bent over, Sara’s hand pushing on her back. Amy tried to straighten up, only to find herself trapped between Tawnee’s ridiculously oversized tits. Her struggles weren’t very hard as Amy found herself enjoying getting her face pressed in between soft, yielding flesh.  
  
“Now isn’t this the hottest thing you’ve ever seen?” Sara said as she spread Amy’s cheeks.  
  
Oh God, that evil, delightful bitch was showing off the butt plug to- Victoria! Victoria was seeing that huge plug buried inside Amy’s ass! Oh God, what was Amy’s beautiful, sexy, intelligent sister thinking, seeing what a tramp her sister was? Amy whimpered against Tawnee’s tits, her face feeling like it was on fire.  
  
“Wow, that’s hot!” Carlos said, ending with a wolf whistle.  
  
“Love the message,” Rory added, a smirk evident in his words.  
  
Message? There was writing on the plug? Amy squirmed, unintentionally swaying her hips from side to side. She thought she was going to die of shame. Right, shame, that was what was making her juices drip down the inside of her thigh.  
  
“So how was it, fucking my sister in the ass?” Victoria asked, her tone light and bright.  
  
“I’m sure it must have felt great,” Tawnee said from above Amy. “Any one who can take a plug that big has to have an ass made for anal.”  
  
A few more comments made Amy feel like she was going to explode, either in rage, shame or arousal. She wasn’t sure which. Her indecision wasn’t helped by Tawnee softly stroking her hair and keeping her head pressed in against her breasts.  
  
“Okay, I’m ready to go,” Sara said, tugging at Amy’s arm. “Here, I’ve got a special seat, just for you.”  
  
Blinking in the sudden light, Amy looked first at Sara’s smiling face, and then down where the blonde was pointing. Amy gulped. The fat dildo Sara had been holding was now firmly fixed to the ground, the large shaft pointing upwards. Amy snapped her gaze back up to a serenely smiling Sara.  
  
“Now, I know you don’t care for cock,” Sara said. “At least, not cock that’s on a guy. So you’re just going to ride that big black dick while the rest of us give some loving attention to these fine gentlemen. Sound good?”  
  
It did. At least, it sounded good enough to Amy for her to do so until she got that orgasm Sara had been denying her for so long. After that, she might have to reconsider.  
  
By the time Amy came to her conclusion, Victoria, Tawnee and Sara were all already on their knees, taking care of whatever guy had stuck their cock in their face. Rory went straight for Sara, while Dean stepped in front of Victoria. Then Victoria shook her head and pointed at Tawnee.  
  
“Nah, nah, babe. I want you to cover that slut. I’ll take care of Carlos.”  
  
Shrugging, Dean stepped in front of Tawnee. Amy wasn’t all surprised to see that the slut already had her mouth open and was staring up at Dean. The three of them started sucking, leaving Amy to her own entertainment.  
  
She looked down at the dildo she was hovering over. There were already a few scattered gleams on the top of it from arousal that had fallen from Amy. It still seemed pretty damn big, especially with the toy that was already in her ass.  
  
Well, Amy had already tried plenty of new things tonight. What was one more? Taking a deep breath, Amy knelt down. She felt the tip of the toy brush against her lower lips, sending a thrum of pleasure through her.  
  
Looking around, Amy saw that all the other girls were busy sucking off three superheroes, not that Sara and Tawnee knew that. Not that the guys were content with just watching the hot and/or slutty girls blowing them. Amy shivered, seeing Rory and Carlos glance at her with a hungry light in their eyes. It was a lot hotter than Amy had thought, watching all of them (and especially Victoria) bob up and down on cock like that. Hot enough to make Amy ready to sink down on the fake dick underneath her.  
  
Amy moaned under her breath as she felt the toy rubbing against her lips and then sliding deeper inside her. She shifted from side to side, wiggling her hips as she felt the toy spread out her walls as it went inside her. Thankfully, Amy was so wet she thought she could even take a baseball bat right now. That was what she thought, at least. Then the dildo reached a certain point in her.  
  
Amy clapped her hands over her mouth to keep herself from shrieking. The plug in her ass, and the dildo in her pussy was making her feel much too full. So full, in fact, that her legs gave out, making Amy fall down on the dildo, driving it even deeper inside her.  
  
The flash of- pleasure and pain and sensation too intense to be called either- was enough to make Amy cum, her holes squeezing down on the toys inside her. She could feel her brain going haywire, her holes stretched too much, giving her too much stimulation. Amy moaned, feeling a second orgasm following hard on the heels of her first.  
  
Amy also felt a hand grab her ass. Her head jerkily turned so Amy could stare at Sara. The blonde, still noisily sucking cock, winked at her as she went for the plug in Amy’s ass. Amy could tell what she was planning to do, and tried to protest. But she couldn’t get the words out as sparks flew through her brain.  
  
Amy was somewhat distracted as everyone got closer to her, Sara and Victoria and Tawnee all pressing the sides of their faces against hers. But not even the feeling of Victoria against her was enough to distract Amy from Sara pulling the toy from side to side in her ass. Amy half-moaned, half-shrieked as she felt her ass once again get stimulated in a way she had never thought possible.  
  
It was just Amy’s bad luck that all three boys came at that moment. Dean, Carlos and Rory all gasped as they came, and all three of them pulled out to aim their cocks at the assemblage of female faces in front of them. Cum ( a lot more of it from Carlos than from the other two) shot out from them and landed on the faces of the girls blowing them.  
  
Sara and Tawnee both squealed and giggled as they got a facial. Victoria just had a small smile on her lips that was rapidly hidden in cum. And Amy had some stray shots from all three boys land in her open mouth.  
  
Amy’s eyes shot open wide as the salty, slimy taste filled her mouth. She slammed her mouth shut and then opened it back up to spit it out. Gagging and wiping her tongue, she glared at… everyone, really. Except for Victoria. Sara, for playing with her butt like that. The guys, for making her taste cum. And Tawnee, just on a general principal of disdain for being such a slut.  
  
Nobody else seemed to care that they were getting glared at. Or even notice that much. The other girls probably couldn’t even tell what expressions anyone had. Carlos had cum a _lot_. It was like all three of the girls had gotten a bucket of white paint dumped on their faces. Amazingly, Amy hadn’t gotten the worst of it.  
  
Amy stared in shock at the bukkaked sluts on either side of her (and her sister). They were _enjoying_ this! Amy could read Sara’s and Tawnee’s body language well enough to tell that they found getting covered in cum like this hot and sexy. Amy shook her head. She was so glad that, as a lesbian, she was above such things.  
  
“Man, all four of us look like sluts, huh?” Victoria asked, scraping enough cum off of her face to see and talk.  
  
“But we’re hot sluts,” Tawnee said, her words almost unintelligible with all the cum in her mouth.  
  
Sara didn’t say anything, as she was too busy playing with Amy. Amy shivered, feeling Sara’s tongue on her cheek, licking up a line of cum. The blonde’s fingers were busy with the rest of her body, teasing Amy’s nipples and making the healer shift around on the dildo still buried inside her pussy.  
  
The dildo that was making Amy feel horny again. She shifted around, feeling the toy move around inside of her. That, plus how Sara was making Amy’s nipples feel, was enough for Amy to stick her own tongue out.  
  
She was just licking another girl, after all. She wasn’t doing anything _weird_ , like cleaning the cum off of Sara’s face with her tongue or anything. Amy was just doing perfectly normal lesbian things with the stripper-slash-whore she had for the night.  
  
  
Over Sara’s shoulder, Amy could see Tawnee and Victoria doing the exact same thing. Only a lot more enthusiastically. Their bodies were pressed together as the overly-endowed slut ran her grubby mitts all over Victoria’s perfect body. Even now, exhausted and orgasmed out, Amy felt jealously possessive of anyone but here getting to play with Victoria’s body. Although she was a lot less jealous of the way the two of them were licking the cum off of each other.  
  
The cum that was collecting on Amy’s tongue from three different guys was just some impossible to foresee side effect, really. And, honestly, not a very plesant one. Amy quickly swallowed, grimacing at the salty flavor. She needed a drink to wash it down. Another drink, actually, since Amy had already had… uh, many drinks tonight.  
  
Amy didn’t get the chance to do so. As she looked around for a bottle that still had some booze in it, Sara tapped her shoulder. Amy looked back at Sara’s smiling face. It was a bit of an odd smile, though, since Sara was keeping her lips tightly pressed together.  
  
Still, she was leaning in for a kiss, and Amy loved kissing girls. She leaned in for the kiss, opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue. And in exchange, Amy got a huge load of cum pushed into her mouth. Her squeak of outrage was muffled by the semen filling her mouth, and she instantly tried to push the salty, sticky cum back into Sara.  
  
Sara giggled, and pushed back against Amy. The two of them shared cum for a bit, before Amy managed to get most of the cum deep into Sara’s mouth. She managed to do that in part by pinching the blonde’s nipple, shattering Sara’s concentration. But a win was a win.  
  
Amy leaned back, smirking superiorly. At least Sara recognized who had won. Shrugging her shoulders, she gave Amy another closed mouth grin. Then she started swallowing it, her throat visibly bulging as she swallowed the cum Amy had forced into her. Amy smirked in her victory.  
  
Amy looked around as someone tapped her on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Victoria, her face clean, though with some shiny tracts from Tawnee’s tongue. Victoria rested both her hands on Amy’s shoulder as she nodded at Tawnee.  
  
Victoria opened her mouth to say something and then closed it. A smile appeared on her face as one hand left Amy’s shoulder and reached up to her face. Amy felt a bit confused before she found Victoria’s thumb running along her cheek. Amy could feel it running along her skin, picking up a bit of cum that both she and Sara had somehow missed.  
  
Then, and Amy’s heart skipped a beat at this, Victoria popped her cum-covered finger into her mouth. She sucked on it like a lollipop, as Amy stared in shock. The sheer, breathtaking eroticism of it made Amy’s legs feel weak. Then Victoria popped the digit back out of her mouth and smiled down at Amy.  
  
“Hey, Ames, want to go have some fun with Tawnee’s tits?”  
  
Amy considered that question good and hard. While Tawnee was a lot bigger than Victoria’s tits, they still weren’t as high of quality. On the other hand, boobs were boobs, and generally attractive.  
  
“Sure thing, Vicky,” Amy said. “Just let me get off- oh!”  
  
Removing herself from the dildo buried inside her was quite the challenge. Even with Victoria helping her get off of it. Or maybe especially, since it meant that Victoria’s hands had to wander all over Amy’s body to help her up.  
  
It certainly left Amy feeling rather weak. She was forced to crawl over to Tawnee, since her legs just weren’t up for it. She flushed as she heard the wolf whistles from the watching guys. She couldn’t bring herself to see how parted her lower holes were, but Amy could imagine how much of a slut she looked like. Tawnee watched her come over, raising her perfectly-plucked eyebrows. Amy noticed that her cheeks were bulging, and a suspicion formed in her mind.  
  
Sure enough, just as Amy was reaching out to grab those fat udders in front of her, Tawnee opened her mouth. Roughly twenty gallons of cum came pouring out from between her lips, splattering onto her breasts. All over her breasts, covering them with the cum Victoria and the bimbo had collected off of each other.  
  
For all that Amy didn’t like semen, she had to admit there was something hot about seeing Tawnee’s curves get covered by it. She couldn’t put it into words, beyond something about how hot it was to see the slut’s nipples poke out. But Amy liked it enough she only had to screw up her courage a bit before leaning in to see how many plastic surgeries the stripper had gotten to have such huge knockers.  
  
Amy’s eyebrows rose as her lips and fingers made contact with Tawnee’s tits. They were all-natural! That was a shock to Amy, that anyone, especially with Tawnee’s slender frame, could get such huge boobs. And there was even milk in them.  
  
A flicker of amusement shot through Amy’s mind. It took barely more than a thought to get Tawnee’s body to start pumping the rest of that milk out of her chest. Amy opened her mouth to taste it, even though some cum was flowing over Tawnee’s nipple.  
  
Amy was rather disappointed. Human milk, straight from the tap, might taste good. But it certainly didn’t when the flavor was overwhelmed with cum from one of three different guys. Amy grimaced as the combined fluids went down her throat. At least the bimbo was making all kinds of entertaining noises as Amy played with her breasts.  
  
The thought occurred to Amy that she could _make_ it taste good. After all, it wouldn’t be all that difficult to make both the cum and the milk taste as sweet as anything. But she didn’t. Amy had gone a long, long time without breaking her rules, and she wasn’t going to start now. Oddly enough, Amy knew she usually felt pretty disgusted with herself for even thinking about that kind of thing. But she didn’t right now. It must because of all the fun she was having with all these girls. And speaking of fun, Amy turned back to work.  
  
A pinch there, a lick here… Amy didn’t need to do all that much to make Tawnee look and sound like more of a needy slut than she already was. She stopped far short of an orgasm, though. No need to _reward_ the bimbo for being such a whore, after all. Anyways, Tawnee was already getting paid, in actual money. Surely the release of mere orgasm couldn’t compare to… however much money she was getting.  
  
Anyway, if Tawnee hadn’t already gotten enough orgasms tonight to satisfy her, then there was no way she ever would. Feeling justified, Amy sat back, wiping her lips clean of the cum that had gotten on them. Looking around at her sister (lazily making out with Dean), Amy smiled.  
  
“So, what’s next?”  
  
What was next was cleaning up with some wipes and getting dressed. Everyone was more or less dead on their feet after what felt like a solid year’s worth of fucking. And even if Panacea could have given everyone else a jolt, _she_ wouldn’t have gotten any extra energy, which didn’t sound very fair to her.  
  
Instead, she stood half-dressed for a bit, intently watching the other girls get dressed. If this was going to be her last chance to see them naked, she might as well engrave the details in her memory. Especially Sara and Victoria, the two wonderful blondes gradually hiding themselves underneath clothing. Not that Sara wore much clothing, or that it hid very much of her. Amy thought the blonde stripper would be getting quite a bit of jiggling as she walked around.  
  
That thought made Amy look over at Tawnee. The big-boobed bimbo was wearing a t-shirt that showed clearly there was no bra underneath. And as tight as it was on her, if Amy tried to wear it it would be a tent. Some women and their boobs, Amy thought, shaking her head. She was sure she’d be seeing Tawnee in the hospital in a few years, complaining about back pain.  
  
As Amy got ready to take the buttplug that was still inside her out, she felt a hand slide into her underwear (in hindsight, Amy should have taken the toy out _before_ getting dressed, even partly). Jumping a few inches, she spun around and glared at an unrepentant Sara. The blonde was already dressed, assuming ‘dressed’ meant daisy dukes and a crop top.  
  
“What are you doing?” Amy demanded as she readjusted the thong Victoria had talked her into wearing. There was something wrong with it, pressing against her skin. Looking down, Amy pulled out a business card with some writing on it.  
  
“My card,” Sara explained. “If you ever want to… hell, anything, talk, fuck, just hang out, give me a jingle, alright? Oh, and do me a favor?” She kissed Amy’s cheek. “Leave the toy inside you. It’s my gift to you.”  
  
What kind of gift was that? Amy shot a look at the blonde’s retreating back, wondering what her idea of birthday presents and like were. Shaking her head, Amy turned her attention away from the crazy, crazy blonde.  
  
Amy looked down at the card, seeing a hand-written cell number and a pair of lip prints the same shade as Sara’s lipstick. She didn’t want to admit how much that touched her. Blushing and looking away, she put the card in her purse. Grabbing the rest of her clothes, Amy resolutely averted her gaze from Sara so she didn’t have to see the amused smirk she knew would be there.  
  
Amy’s cheeks still had a faint dusting of red by the time Victoria and her got back to their dark, quiet home. Quietly slipping inside, the sisters split up to their own rooms. Amy sat down on her bed with a sigh. And then stiffened. The plug was still inside her, and made itself known as she shifted around.  
  
Stripping out of her clothes, Amy leaned forward and ran a hand behind herself. Grabbing the base of it, she took a deep breath. Best to rip the bandaid off and get it over. Amy tugged. And then she had to tug again. Amy flushed red. Just how big was this thing? And how had Amy taken it so easily?  
  
The butt plug came out with a pop, the sound filling Amy’s bedroom. Amy flushed, suddenly glad that she hadn’t done that at the club. Everyone in the room would have been looking at her holding the toy that had just been in her ass.  
  
After stepping over to the bathroom to clean it off, Amy hid both the plug and card in her dresser. Then she collapsed onto her bed, still naked from the waist down. It was too much effort to get changed into her pajamas. She’d do it tomorrow morning before she went downstairs for breakfast. Or, with the hangover she was bound to have, maybe she’d just spend all day in here, half-naked and aching.  
  
Either was a possibility. Maybe she could call Sara to come over and massage her aches and pains away. Amy was sure her parents would be fine with welcoming a stranger dressed like Sara had (briefly) been to run her hands all over their daughter’s body.  
  
That thought made Amy’s lips twitch upward in a smile before sleep overtook her. Ten seconds later, Amy Dallon was dead to the world.  


*******

Victoria was quite confident she was giving Carlos a blowjob he would never forget. After all, how many people got oral sex from Glory Girl, the most generally amazing teenage superheroine in the city? And Victoria was sure that Aegis would have a nice thick load to show his appreciation for her blowjob skills.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Victoria could see Tawnee giving Dean a blowjob. Victoria mentally frowned at that, not enjoying the associated memories of that. Somehow, while she was fine with Dean fucking the shit out of Tawnee, it was way less cool for the two of them to be kissing. Victoria couldn’t explain how, but the glimpse she had seen of those two, even as she got stuffed by Carlos and Rory, had dampened her enjoyment of the entire thing.  
  
At least they weren’t kissing anymore. And that was enough for Victoria, especially with the thick cock she had to tend to. The thick cock that was very close to orgasm. While Carlos was keeping his breathing steady, Victoria could tell from the way his cock was twitching in her mouth that he was almost at his limit.  
  
Victoria helped him along by doing that trick with her tongue that Dean had shown her. That was enough to push him over the edge, at the same time as Dean and Rory. All three of glanced at each other and pulled out of the mouths of the girls that were sucking off.  
  
Giggling, Sara, Tawnee and Victoria all pushed their heads together at the same time, squishing their faces up against Amy’s. Victoria smiled at her sister’s squeak as she stared up at the thick cocks surrounding her. This was going to be fun.  
  
Victoria closed her eyes just in time. Carlos came like a fire hose, pumping thick jet after thick jet of cum all over the blonde’s face. Victoria purred in satisfaction, feeling the cum landing on her, spreading across every inch of her face. She could hear the squeals and moans from the other girls as they got bukakked too.  
  
Victoria could feel herself getting wet again as she imagined what the other girls, even her sister, looked like covered in cum. God, that was so hot. But as fun as it sounded to masturbate while her face was completely and utterly covered in cum, if she couldn’t see, then Victoria might miss out on something even hotter.  
  
Wiping her eyes clear, and opening her mouth enough to let the cum on her lips fall in, Victoria looked around at the rest of the group. Sara and Tawnee both looked like they’d gotten almost as much cum as she had. Amy, on the other hand, only had a few strands and splatters on her. And even that looked like it was too much for her.  
  
“Man, all four of us look like sluts, huh?” Victoria asked, smiling widely. She wished she had a camera to take pictures, before sanity reasserted itself. There was no need for photographic proof of Glory Girl and Panacea being part of an orgy.  
  
“But we’re hot sluts,” Tawnee said, her lips almost glued together by the strands of cum that had landed on her.  
  
That was hot, Victoria realized. How much hotter would it be if she used Tawnee to put on a show for Dean? Pretty damn hot, she guessed.  
  
Deciding there was no reason to wait, Victoria crawled over to Tawnee. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her little sister turning back Sara, obviously intent on monopolizing the blonde for the rest of the night. Victoria rolled her eyes and grinned. That would be something to tease Amy about later, so long as nobody else was around to ask questions about where and what exactly had happened.  
  
But right now, the important thing was for Victoria and Tawnee to take good care of each other. The two of them even had the exact same idea on how to help each other out. Tawnee already had her mouth open and her tongue poking out.  
  
Victoria let out a muffled giggle as the two of them licked the cum off of each other. Tawnee certainly got the lion’s share, although, to be fair, she had a wide mouth perfectly suited for storing cum in. And she certainly seemed to know how to lick up cum. She was all over Victoria’s bukkaked face, giving Victoria a great chance to play with her breasts.  
  
And they really were great breasts. Victoria doubted she had ever seen a pair so large. And her _thorough_ examination of them showed that they certainly seemed to be all natural. Not a single bit of plastic to be found, Victoria thought as she squeezed and kneaded the fat jugs. The way it made Tawnee moan and shift around as she tried to lick up more of the cum on Victoria’s face without letting the stuff already in her mouth fall out just made the entire thing so much hotter.  
  
Finally, Tawnee pulled away from Victoria. The blonde thought her new sex friend kind of looked like a chipmunk, with those bulging cheeks. Not a thought she should share, probably.  
  
Turning around to hide her smile, it only grew bigger. Victoria hadn’t realized how hot it could be to see Amy do some cumplay of her own. It actually made her kind of wet, even though she was watching her own sister. And it gave Victoria an idea. An awesome idea, of course, as most of her ideas were.  
  
Floating over towards her sister, Victoria grabbed Amy’s shoulders. The slightly younger girl jumped a bit before turning around to look up at Victoria. Victoria grinned down at her sister. Before she spoke, she ran a thumb along Amy’s cheek. Collection a load of cum off of Amy’s skin, she raised it up to her mouth and licked it clean. Amy made a funny choking sound at that.  
  
“Hey, Ames, want to go have some fun with Tawnee’s tits?”  
  
Watching Amy lick the cum off and suck the milk out of Tawnee’s tremendous titties was just as entertaining as Victoria thought. And she made sure that if anyone wasn’t interested in watching that, they could watch her, as she slowly masturbated while floating in midair. Victoria just gave and gave to people, she thought with a grin.  
  
She even kept on giving as everyone was getting cleaned up. Taking the chance while Tawnee’s chest was still bare (because boobs like that should spend as much time in the open air as possible), Victoria stepped in front of her. Tawnee looked up at her and flushed.  
  
“Hi, Glory Girl. Um, sorry about kissing your boyfriend like that. It just seemed like the right thing to do, you know? Only realized you didn’t like it when your aura started beating down on me.” The shame-faced expression Tawnee had soothed most of Victoria’s already mild anger over that. There was just enough left to consider how good Tawnee would look if she was bent over Victoria’s lap, bare bum raised and ready for a spanking.  
  
“No, no, it’s fine,” Victoria said, mostly telling the truth. “It’s just…” Victoria thought things over and changed what she was about to say. “Tell you what, here’s my phone number,” she grabbed a pen and scrawled it down on Tawnee’s forearm. She ignored the stripper’s raised eyebrows and slight smile. “If you ever want to have some more fun, call me. I can set up a threesome that will rock your world.”  
  
“Sure thing,” Tawnee said, smiling. “I know a thing or two that may surprise you too.”  
  
Victoria smiled widely. That was nice of her to say, but come on. What could a stripper, even one as hot as Tawnee, know that would surprise Glory Girl?

*******

Greg was still reeling. Taylor, his best female friend, had dropped out of school. As if he needed more proof of that nefarious Master controlling her. Why would she do that? Greg didn’t know the _exact_ grades Taylor was getting, but she liked reading, just like him. So she _had_ to be doing good in school.  
  
Greg was pacing up and down along the hallway outside of Winslow’s administration offices. It had been nice for the secretary to tell him Taylor had dropped out, but Greg still just couldn’t wrap his around _why_.  
  
Well, one of the whys. That the Master who’d been abusing poor Taylor had made her do this was obvious. Greg just couldn’t think of why the big black man would want to have Taylor drop out. Unless…  
  
Greg stiffened. It all made sense now. That man wanted Taylor to himself, or at least to the strip club he was making Taylor work out. And now, without school, there would be nothing stopping him from having Taylor work there in between his bouts on animal lust like the one Greg had witnessed.  
  
Greg had to do something, to save Taylor and all the other girls enslaved at Club Lango. But how? Greg knew he wasn’t very strong, not nearly strong enough to beat up the Master, let alone any muscle he had around the place. And if he hadn’t gotten powers watching Taylor getting raped (and mind controlled into loving it), then he probably wasn’t going to five seconds before charging into the strip club either. And he didn’t know how to get his hands on a gun either.  
  
It wasn’t very manly, but there was only one choice left for Greg. He’d have to call the PRT and let them know about this. He might not be able to save Taylor on his own, but flat out saving Taylor had to be worth something, right?  
  
Squaring his shoulders, Greg pulled out his phone. Then he put his phone away and looked up the PRT’s anonymous tip number. Once he had that, he pulled out his phone again and dialed it.  
  
“This is the Protectorate Response Team anonymous hotline,” a bored but professional voice said. “What is the nature of your call?”  
  
“Hi, I’m Gre-!” Greg barely stopped himself in time. Blood pounding through his cheeks, he started again. “I’m calling to report a Master-class cape.”  
  
“I see,” said the male voice on the other end. “Please tell me as much as you can.”  
  
“It’s this girl, you see,” Greg said. “She’s my friend, but now she doesn’t have time for me. She’s spending way too much time with this big black guy and she didn’t even say hello to me,” Greg knew he was babbling, speaking too quickly, and tried to reign himself in.  
  
There was silence on the other end as Greg carefully took a few deep breaths, doing his best to reassemble his thoughts. Once he felt a bit more in control, Greg started talking again.  
  
“My friend, Taylor, dropped out of her classes and now she’s dancing at a stripper bar. She doesn’t talk to me anymore even when I go looking for her. I know she’s being forced into it by this big black guy I saw forcing her to have sex with him. I know he’s using a Master power on her. If I give you the club’s address, can you guys go there and bring her back for me?”  
  
By the end of that, Greg was feeling out of breath, and his stomach was turning over itself. He waited for the voice to respond, to thank him for being an anonymous hero and saving Taylor and whoever else was in trouble.  
  
“Spare me from college breakups,” Greg heard, the words muttered. “Listen kid, this is a line for actual crime, okay? It’s not for someone upset that his girlfriend left him. If you’ve witnessed a case of rape,” and the dispatcher’s voice made it clear how likely he found that, “call the police.”  
  
Greg’s lips worked soundlessly. What? No, how could they be ignoring him? How-?  
  
“Also, before you make that call,” the dispatcher’s voice turned into iron, “you better think good and hard about what you ‘saw’.” The air quotes in his voice was obvious. “Knowingly filing a false report is a crime, understand? With jail time.”  
  
The dispatcher didn’t wait for Greg to get himself together enough to respond. The line went dead, leaving Greg’s mouth still opening and closing as his world spun around him.  
  
Was that it? The PRT just completely ignoring him because he didn’t have any proof? Surely they couldn’t get that many crank calls in one day. And even if they did, wasn’t it their job to deal with that sort of thing?  
  
Greg’s phone dropped down to his desk. What now? He didn’t know anybody who was a cape that he could ask. Or did he?  
  
The thought wound its way through Greg’s head. The moderators on PHO had a firm deletion policy on anything involving buying powers. But Greg had still participated in them a lot (and had the punishment points to prove it). He had a pretty good idea about one or two of them not being scams. If he could just remember who to talk to.  
  
Yeah, that was a good idea. Buy some powers and then, just like in an anime or videogame, unload tens kind of bad ass on the supervillain who was controlling Taylor. Greg smiled to himself as he pulled up PHO.  
  
This plan was sure to work.

*******

Emma realized she was drumming her fingers against her side. Scowling, she forced herself to stop and rested her hands against each other. That was not how the top girl in the school behaved. Not even when her insides were roiling with emotions.  
  
God, Emma hated feeling like this. Like some limp-wristed fuck-up who didn’t have a brain in her head instead of the cape who was about to take the streets of Brockton Bay by storm. Right. She was a cape, and her best friend was a cape, so why should she worry so much? After all, it wasn’t as if Taylor was someone important to her or anything.  
  
Sure, Taylor hadn’t been around for days and days. In fact, she might even have dropped out. And while that thought was kind of amusing, confirming everything Emma thought about Taylor’s lack of brains and what her future was going to look like, Emma wasn’t all _that_ happy. She hadn’t had nearly enough fun with that little traitor yet.  
  
Emma realized she was squeezing her hands together enough to hurt. Keeping her face calm, she rested her hands against the lunch table. Mastering herself, she turned to look at Madison. Madison stared back, her eyebrows raised and a smile on her face. In between shoving a sandwich down her throat, at least.  
  
God, Emma couldn’t begin to guess how Madison was so happy right now. Didn’t she realize how upset she should be that Taylor was gone? Instead, Madison had bubbled out something about how now that Taylor was ‘out of our hair’, they could focus on planning the upcoming dance, and how they should not only take the credit from the seniors who were supposed to be doing that, but should take over the work too, so they had a few planning sessions under their collective belts when their prom rolled around.  
  
Even Sophia was flaking out on her. And Sophia had been with Emma, had seen… _that_. How on Earth couldn’t she understand how awful this was? Not that Emma really cared that much about Taylor, of course. But surely Emma’s best friend should realize how wrong it was that good-for-nothing Taylor had some ripped, stacked boyfriend?  
  
“Ems? Hey, Emma, is everything alright?”  
  
Emma blinked and looked up at Madison. Her friend slash flunky was staring at her from across the table, a look of innocent concern on her face. Sophia was looking at her too, in between eating her sandwich. So were a few of the other rotating minions Emma kept around her.  
  
“Yes, I’m fine. Everything’s fine,” Emma said briskly.  
  
“Okay. If you’re sure,” Madison said, doubt hanging off of every word. “Anyway, Sophia,” she nodded at the black girl, “was saying that Taylor’s got a boyfriend.” Disbelief was dripping off of every syllable. “Is he as ugly as I think he is?”  
  
“He’s nice enough,” Sophia replied non-committedly. Emma shot her a quick glare for passing up the chance to denigrate Taylor. Sophia missed it as she pulled out her phone. “Actually, managed to get a picture of him. And her, if you think that Taylor’s worth looking at naked.”  
  
There was a wave of laughter from around the table as Sophia started paging through her phone. Despite herself, Emma was a bit interested. She hadn’t even known Sophia had been taking pictures from underneath that bush. She leaned in over her friend’s shoulder. And blushed a bit, at the explicit scenes Sophia had recorded. Who would have guessed that the shutter on Sophia’s phone would work fast enough to catch Taylor’s newly enhanced boobs in mid-swing.  
  
  
Sophia settled on one of just… the guy. Emma couldn’t remember his name. But it showed his face and upper part of his chest, so it would have to be good enough. Sophia certainly thought so, as she panned her phone around, letting Emma’s group get a good look at him.  
  
Emma scowled at the appreciative noises her friends and minions were making. They weren’t supposed to be so in favor of anything or anyone associated with Taylor. They certainly weren’t supposed to have the rapturous look Madison had as she stood up a bit, closely peering at the phone. Emma stared at Madison as Madison stared at the phone.  
  
“Oh wow, he’s _hot_ ,” Madison said in an awed voice. “Can you send me that picture?”  
  
“Oh yeah.”  
  
“Dreamy.”  
  
“I’d like to know him.”  
  
Emma glared at the rest of her so-called friends as they disgustingly fawned over whoever Taylor had whored herself out for. Didn’t they realize this was Taylor Hebert they were talking about? The biggest sack of good for nothing shit in the entire school? Who cared if she had a hot boyfriend? Emma certainly didn’t!  
  
“Hey, Emma, what’s his name?” Madison asked, not looking up from the screen.  
  
“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Emma said in a tone that should have made Madison sit up and pay attention. Instead, the little idiot turned to Sophia and repeated the question.  
  
“Brian,” Sophia said, a faintly amused tone in her voice. “That’s what Taylor said, at least.”  
  
Emma glanced at Sophia. She was pretty certain that Taylor hadn’t ever said. So how did Sophia know? Had she done a little look around without inviting Emma along? That hurt, sort of. The two of them were supposed to be partners, on and off the streets.  
  
Or maybe Taylor _had_ said that and Emma just didn’t remember hearing it. Emma forced herself to acknowledge that possibility too. Her attempt at calming herself was spoiled by Madison eagerly whipping out her phone and starting to type on it. Emma stared at her friend as Madison’s fingers flew over the phone.  
  
And then she stared at the surrounding tables around her. Around half of the girls at Winslow that Emma mentally labeled as pretty idiots had their own phones out and were squealing to each other over a text message they had just gotten. Sighing, Emma turned back to Madison, who finally had the time to look up at Emma.  
  
“Sorry, Ems, but that guy’s just too cute!” Madison giggled. “I’ve got to know who he is!”  
  
Emma opened her mouth to ask who cared who the guy was, using rather more pointed language. Before she could get the first sound out, Sophia laid a hand on her arm. Glancing at her friend and partner, Emma saw Sophia slightly shake her head.  
  
Sighing, Emma realized Sophia was right. Indulge Madison and let her get this out of her system, and then hopefully they could get her to help them in the real job. Emma hadn’t forgiven Taylor for getting a significant other before her, and she would have to tell that sad sack what she thought of Taylor trying to upstage her.  
  
And, the thought flashed through Emma’s mind like lightning, this might actually be good. If Madison could dig up some information on this ‘Brian’, then Emma and Sophia could do their (okay, Emma’s) plan. Emma was certain that any guy would dump Taylor in a heartbeat when two _real_ women took an interest in him.  
  
Smiling, Emma leaned in, waiting for Madison to share whatever she found.

*******

Sophia was a bit worried about Emma. Her friend and protégé had been smiling to herself all day long. On the one hand, that was good, because Emma had been a bit on edge for the past few days, ever since they spied on Taylor and the black hunk doing the deed in the park. So it was good that she was smiling. On the other hand, Sophia didn’t care all that much for the exact kind of smile Emma had. It seemed a bit too sharp to just be the smile of a girl enjoying life. It was more like the smile of someone who had just gotten news that would be horrible for someone else.  
  
Not that Sophia really had a problem with that, so long as the horrible thing happened to someone else. And she had a pretty good idea of who it would happen too. The funny look had entered Emma’s eyes after Madison’s gossip circle had turned up who exactly Brian was.  
  
His last name was Laborn, apparently. And he had been the ‘major hunk a hottie’ of Arcadia before graduating early, according to Madison. It had been nice to put a full name with a face, and even Sophia had to admit that he was pretty handsome.  
  
Not handsome enough to be worth putting any effort into tracking him down, no matter what Emma thought. Sophia had her sights on a much more important goal. The time for Shadow Stalker’s protégé debut was coming up soon. Emma was good enough at using her powers that Sophia thought she was ready to make her first appearance. All they needed to work on was her cape name and where to go.  
  
One of those was tougher than the other. Sophia and Emma had already spent a couple of on and off hours trying to come up with a proper cape name. Emma had already rejected Midnight Scream, Black Heart, and Ebon River. Instead, she was holding out on Silent Whisper, which Sophia thought was much too wimpy of a name.  
  
Still, a good name was only one aspect of being a superhero. Another part was making a flashy debut. And Sophia had _that_ all sown up.  
  
Club Lango was some sleazy strip bar, that was probably a front for prostitution. The briefing Sophia and the Wards had gotten hadn’t actually said that, but it was so obvious Sophia hadn’t needed to think hard at all on it. That was just a job for the local vice squad. What _actually_ made it interesting was that the Empire 88 both took a hefty slice of revenue from it in protection money _and_ occasionally hung out at it.  
  
The Protectorate was working its way up to a bust of whatever skinhead muscle was collecting the money, with a couple of the Wards in support. But from what Triumph had said, that was still two months away, since the pussies wanted to watch the routine a couple more times to make sure they wouldn’t get any dirt on themselves doing it.  
  
Sometimes Sophia couldn’t believe that a group of such big fucking cowards had ever had the balls to force her to join. The E88 was weak _now_ , bleeding men and money trying to help their butt buddy skinhead friends down in Baltimore fight some gang there. Now was the _perfect_ time to put a couple of their capes in jail and cut off a protection racket. Instead, the ‘good guys’ were just sending a couple of undercover agents to perv on the dancers and see if, just maybe, they had the balls for even an ambush.  
  
Sophia thought it would be an amazing entrance for Emma if she upstaged all those jackasses. Get the money, knock out whoever was carrying it and, with Shadow Stalker’s help, let everyone know there was a new hero in town, someone who could actually get things done and fight the scum of the streets on their own terms.  
  
“Why are you smiling like that?” Emma asked, looking up at Sophia from her phone.  
  
“Why are _you_ smiling like that?” Sophia shot back, noting that Emma’s own brightly unstable smile was still flickering on and off her face.  
  
“Just thinking about what we’re going to do to Taylor,” Emma said. “Do you want to be the one riding this Brian guy, or should I?”  
  
Sophia’s smile flickered a bit. Emma was getting too hung up on Hebert. Sure, it had fun when that spineless cry baby had been around, but so were a lot of things. Emma just couldn’t seem to let this go, though.  
  
“Eh, we’ll have to see,” Sophia said non-committedly. “Listen, I was thinking about your debut. I think we should head out tonight and take a look around the outside of this club, alright? Get a feel for, oh, what’s the phrase, the lay of the land before we do the real thing.”  
  
And, she added in the privacy of her own head, hopefully it would be enough to get Emma to stop chasing the past and focus on the new, wonderful, badass future.

*******

Sabah had only felt this nervous once before, when she had made her debut as Parian. Going out in costume, letting the entire world see her dressed up like that, even hidden behind the mask… It had taken all of her self-control to keep her hands at her side during the event, and _nothing_ could have been done about her stomach.  
  
At least right now she could twist her hands together all she wanted without worrying how it would look in front of the crowd. There wasn’t a crowd, for one thing. There was just and this dancer, Tawnee.  
  
Or there would be soon. Tawnee hadn’t actually arrived yet, giving Sabah some time to try and get her nerves under control. Maybe a drink would help with that. Sabah grabbed a can of beer and popped the tab. She quickly took a few swigs, grimacing at the awful taste. And at the fact that she was drinking beer. Sabah knew she was an awful Muslim, but she was still just barely pious enough to feel guilty for drinking alcohol.  
  
And guilt over a lot of other things, like, just as a random example, attending a strip club and ogling the women on stage. Or woman, at least. When that young dancer with the long hair and big breasts had started her routine, Sabah had felt her mouth go as dry as the Sahara Desert. And the friend she was with had noticed.  
  
Jasmine had actually taken the unbelievable step of getting Sabah a private dance with the dancer. And the winking and nudging she had given Sabah when telling her about this had left the fashion student with absolutely no doubt about what her classmate meant by ‘private dance’.  
  
Sabah, just barely, wasn’t a virgin, technically. But there was no way she was ready for _this_. Not for a close encounter (or several encounters, she thought with a blush) with such an amazing woman. Sabah shifted in her seat, feeling the heat in her lower belly. In the past few days, ever since that dance, Sabah’s body had been associating thoughts of Tawnee with arousal.  
  
And it made sense, sort of. Sabah had been in the front row of Tawnee’s special, one of a kind dance. She didn’t even need to close her eyes to remember seeing the cowgirl prance around on stage. And she could still remember the feeling of the dancer’s hot milk splattering against her face.  
  
Sabah had been masturbating daily since then, and thoughts of Tawnee always, _always_ , took a prime place in her erotic daydreams. The things she’d like to do to Tawnee, the things she would like to have done to her, and more.  
  
It was even starting to affect her schoolwork, the dreams of those long legs, the silky black hair, the full breasts dripping with milk… Sabah had never had a crush this bad before. And, for the matter, she had never had friends this good before, a friend who was willing to set all this up, just for her and Tawnee.  
  
Sabah couldn’t begin to guess how much a room like this would cost. Mood lighting, a primitive sound system, a minibar (alright, a bunch of drinks and ingredients stuffed into a hotel minifridge), and, most of all, a red velvet bed in the middle of the room, with a mirror mounted on the ceiling above it. And it was all for her and Tawnee tonight.  
  
Sabah was so nervous and aroused she thought she was going to burst. And when the door opened, before she could even see who was on the other side, Sabah jumped a foot into the air and made a squeaking sound.  
  
The door opened the rest of the way, and Sabah’s mouth and throat, impossibly, went even drier. Tawnee strode into the room, looking like a vision of absolute perfection.  
  
She was wearing a dark blue dress that hugged every inch of her glorious figure. The dress itself was rather shoddy to Sabah’s eye, and she was sure she could make something much more suitable for Tawnee to wear. In fact, that had been the subject of at least two of Sabah’s masturbation sessions.  
  
But even this inferior dress managed to show off Tawnee’s wonderful body. So much of her cleavage was on display, the fabric covering just enough to keep her breasts inside the dress. Sabah could see the outline of Tawnee’s nipple piercing against the fabric, the bars standing out as clear as day.  
  
The dress clung tightly to Tawnee’s body, running down her curvy figure and ending maybe a third of the way down her thighs. If the material around her waist was as thin as the fabric at her chest, Sabah would get to see if Tawnee was wearing underwear before any clothes even came off.  
  
Of course, the clothes couldn’t compare to the woman. Sabah’s eyes were irresistibly drawn upward, towards Tawnee’s face. Tawnee was just as beautiful up close as she was on the stage. A few touches of makeup made her brown eyes look so dark and inviting, and her wide mouth and red lips were tailor made for kissing.  
  
Sabah only now realized that the panting sound she had been hearing was from her. She shut up, a brilliant red blush spreading over her face. And then she buried her face in her hands, aware of just how badly she was screwing this all up.  
  
A clear laugh, like a babbling brook, made Sabah lookup, her cheeks aflame. Tawnee was striding closer to her, her long legs on display as she walked over to Sabah. There was a gentle, soft smile on Tawnee’s face as she gently grabbed Sabah’s hands and lowered them down.  
  
Then Tawnee reached up and wiped away the small tears that were forming in the corners of Sabah’s eyes. Another soft smile and Tawnee started stroking Sabah’s face, running her fingers over Sabah’s earrings and nose ring. Sabah relaxed slightly, feeling the warm hands rub away a bit of the tension and stress.  
  
“Hello Sabah,” Tawnee said, her voice warm and soft. It was like the voice of a goddess, along with her face and body. Sabah was just aware enough to realize how bad she had it for this woman. ‘Woman’, right. Sabah was sure Tawnee was a year or so younger than her.  
  
“Hello, Tawnee!” Sabah blushed _again_. She had squeaked so loudly she hadn’t even pronounced the last few sounds in the name.  
  
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Tawnee said, sitting down on Sabah’s knee. The college student gasped, feeling the warmth sink in through the dress and into her body. “How are you feeling today?”  
  
Sabah hesitated for a moment before answering honestly.  
  
“I’m actually feeling pretty nervous,” Sabah said, using all her will to keep her hands at her sides instead of nervously fiddling with her blouse. “I’ve never done anything like this before. Or with someone so pretty.”  
  
Tawnee smiled and that, and faintly blushed, a dusting of pink appearing on her pale cheeks. It made Sabah fall in love, or lust at least, with her even more.  
  
“Thank you for that,” Tawnee said, and even sounded as if she meant it. “And I hope I can make all your cares and worries just fly away tonight. How does that sound?”  
  
Sabah made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. She could vividly imagine what that would entail, seeing it so clearly that it was like it was already happening. Thankfully, Tawnee didn’t need any an actual verbal reply to decide that Sabah had agreed with her. She just nodded and smiled again.  
  
“Would you like me to start off with a dance, or go straight towards the main event?”  
  
That was a very tough question. Sabah couldn’t decide which was a better idea. The pros and cons of both flashed through her head before she decided. She wasn’t horny enough, and was too flustered, to want to have sex right now. Instead, a nice, relaxing strip tease should put her in a much better frame of mind for the fun later.  
  
“The-!” A frog seemed to have appeared in Sabah’s throat. She swallowed hard, before speaking again. “I would like to see you dance again, please.”  
  
“Of course,” Tawnee said, sliding off of Sabah’s leg and standing up.  
  
And up and up and up. She really was a tall woman. And Sabah wasn’t. So that meant she would be in the perfect position to bury her face in Tawnee’s breasts. Sabah made a note to try and do that at least once tonight. If she hadn’t melted by then.  
  
Tawnee walked over to the sound system controls, swaying her hips from side to side as she went. She _had_ to know what that was doing to Sabah, who was forced to watch the swing and sway as her lover for the night put on a pre-show show.  
  
Selecting some smooth jazz, Tawnee turned back around to face Sabah, a wide grin on her face. Sabah swallowed nervously as Tawnee came back in front of her, already running her hands over her body. This was going to be so much better than anything else Sabah had ever experienced, she was certain.  
  
She could already tell that Tawnee was naked underneath her dress, and that was the first time that had _ever_ happened with a woman Sabah knew. Another first was getting a lap dance. And while Sabah may not have had any real experience with that sort of thing, she was sure that Tawnee was giving her the best dance it was possible to give.  
  
Even with Sabah almost jumping out of her skin as Tawnee sat down on her lap, facing away from her. The dancer leaned forward, drawing her already tight dress forward to cling even tighter to her body. It was like Sabah’s eyes were connected to a line, forced downwards to stare at Tawnee’s rear.  
  
Tawnee was shaking it from side to side in the most delicious manner imaginable. Sabah wanted to reach down and grab both of those cheeks in her hands, feel the orbs squish and slide underneath her fingers. She had even raised her hands halfway before she remembered that the rule at strip clubs was looking, not touching. But did that apply to, ahem, private dances? She had to know.  
  
“T-tawnee? Is it okay if I touch you?” Sabah asked in a trembling voice. She winced at how unsure she sounded.  
  
“If you want,” Tawnee replied as she slid up and down Sabah’s lap, pressing her rear against the student’s legs. “Or you can just sit back and let me handle every. Last. Bit.” Her last few words were so seductive Sabah’s breath caught in her throat.  
  
It was impossible for Sabah to decide what to do. On the one hand, this body was unbelievably tempting. On the other, Sabah did have a hard time saying no to people. And on the third hand, something whispered to her about how nice it would be to see a girl tied up and on her knees as another girl loomed over her. And that part of her mind didn’t care which girl was which.  
  
Sabah was feeling more aroused than she had in a long time. Normally, she would be making excuses to go somewhere and masturbate in privacy. Right now, though, she just kept an iron grip on the bed sheets and stared with hungry eyes.  
  
It only took a few minutes for Tawnee to finish shaking her ass on Sabah’s lap. The tall girl stood up and turned around. She smiled, probably at the sound of disappointment Sabah made, and then grabbed the hem of her dress. A strangled sound escaped Sabah as she stared, her eyes as wide as saucers.  
  
Slowly, teasingly, Tawnee pulled her dress up, swaying from side to side in time with the music. With every inch of dress she pulled up, Sabah leaned forward an inch in turn, her hungry eyes devouring every inch of skin on display.  
  
It all looked wonderful, like the body of a goddess. Sabah was so enraptured with the entire show that she didn’t even linger on Tawnee’s pussy, only noting in passing the wet folds that slightly glimmered in the dim light. After all, as amazing as that pussy certainly was, the thing that had originally captured Sabah’s heart and mind were Tawnee’s breasts.  
  
Those lovely, lovely breasts, with their piercing poking out against the fabric of the dress. Those huge boobs that had looked like they were bigger than Tawnee’s head when she was up on stage. Those milk-filled udders with a treat inside them Sabah couldn’t wait to get another taste of. Those breasts.  
  
Those breasts that Tawnee was hiding from her! Just as the tall woman lifted her dress over her chest, she stopped, keeping the fabric held up in front of them. Sabah’s noise of betrayal brought a smile to Tawnee’s lips.  
  
Thankfully, Tawnee didn’t tease Sabah for too long. Or, at least, that was what Sabah thought. Tawnee pulled up her dress, tossing it to one side. Sabah’s eyes flicked over to watch it land in one corner. And by the time she had returned to gaze, Tawnee was hiding her breasts behind her hands!  
  
Not well, admittedly. There was a lot of breast to hide and Tawnee only had two hands. Sabah would have volunteered her own hands to help, but she found herself quite unable to say anything at all. Instead, she just stared hungrily at the acres of flesh that were being hidden so poorly.  
  
“So amazing…” Sabah whispered, not even aware she was saying anything.  
  
“I’m glad you think so,” Tawnee said with a laugh, leaning forward. “Now, how would you like a peek?”  
  
Sabah nodded, distantly aware that her panties were ruined beyond recovery by now. But who cared? She was finally going to get to see Tawnee fully naked, and she would be the _only_ one seeing her like this. It was like a dream.  
  
Sabah sighed softly as Tawnee removed her hands, showing off all of her. Her body was just as amazing as Sabah had thought it would be. It was like she was in a dream come true, seeing the jiggle and sway of Tawnee’s body as the dancer slowly took one step after another towards Sabah.  
  
And when Tawnee was right in front of Sabah, she leaned forward, waving her huge breasts around right in front of Sabah’s face. Sabah couldn’t believe her luck, two amazing breasts right there, just waiting for her. She didn’t even want to grab them at first, content to just examine their magnificence.  
  
The fat nipples, both of them speared with a piercing. The long stretches of skin, completely flawless and begging to have fingers dig into them. And inside, hidden from Sabah’s sight, the milk that was surely waiting for her, just needing a squeeze to decorate Tawnee’s tits and Sabah’s mouth with the dancer’s cream.  
  
Sabah was starting to wonder if she could cum without ever getting touched. She was certainly turned on enough.  
  
Thankfully, Sabah never had to find out. Tawnee’s hands had started running all over her, sliding underneath her clothing and undressing her. Even more shockingly, Tawnee was focused on getting Sabah undressed, instead of mercilessly playing with her body, which is what Sabah would have done if their positions had been reversed.  
  
  
Sabah was very quickly stripped naked, left in only her brown skin and the belly button piercing she had. Tawnee stepped back a bit to look Sabah over. Sabah flushed under her gaze and looked off to one side. Thankfully, Tawnee just sweetly smiled and stepped back in.  
  
“You look so pretty, Sabah,” Tawnee murmured, her breath puffing against Sabah’s skin. “I love all these piercings you have.”  
  
“Thanks,” Sabah replied, doing her best to keep her voice level and under control. “You look really pretty yourself.”   
  
That was the understatement of the year. Sabah thought that Tawnee was the most beautiful and sexual woman she had ever seen. And she wondered if, when she finally managed to open her boutique, if Tawnee would be willing to come work there and be a model for Sabah’s designs.  
  
“Why thank you,” Tawnee said. As she talked, she gently pushed Sabah back until the college student was lying on her back. “But tonight,” she leaned down and pressed a kiss against Sabah’s belly, “isn’t,” another kiss, a bit lower down, “about me.” A final kiss, right on Sabah’s freshly shaved crotch.  
  
“It’s about you,” she said, looking up at Sabah. Sabah could only see the top half of her face, everything else hidden by her own body. “So you better enjoy this.”  
  
And then Tawnee leaned in and started eating Sabah’s juicy peach. From the very first lick, Sabah thought she was in paradise. Her head snapped back and her hands formed fists, dragging the sheets up. It was good, so much better than the few times Sabah had gotten eaten out before. Tawnee seemed to know exactly where her tongue should go, licking and sucking and stroking at Sabah’s soaking wet folds.  
  
Every caress sent a jolt of electricity up Sabah’s spine straight into her brain. It was so good she thought she might start crying over the intensity of the stimulations. It was so good Sabah couldn’t do anything but lie there, letting her angel bring her to higher and higher heights of pleasure.  
  
A small part of Sabah’s mind wasn’t at all surprised over how quickly she came. She had been so turned on for so long that it wouldn’t have taken much to push her over the edge. But how hard she came? Now _that_ was a surprise.  
  
And a very welcome one, too. The intensity of Sabah’s first orgasm from Tawnee was so intense that she actually blanked out. Even though she could feel her eyes open wide, she couldn’t actually see anything, just a wave of blackness that had overtaken her. It was like her brain couldn’t handle anything except the sheer pleasure she was experiencing.  
  
When Sabah recovered enough to become aware of what was going on, she realized that Tawnee had stopped licking her pussy. Instead, the black-haired woman had Sabah’s head in her lap and was looking down at her with an expression of concern.  
  
“Are you alright, Sabah? I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I?”  
  
“Ah-.” Sabah stopped, her voice catching in her throat. Grimicing, she swallowed and tried again. “I, I’m fine, Tawnee. Just-wow!” Sabah’s face was pulled upward in a goofy, somewhat shaky smile.  
  
“If you say so,” Tawnee said slowly, obviously not quite believing her. “Is this going to happen every time you cum? Because I can’t guarantee your safety if you keep on-“  
  
“No, no, no,” Sabah said quickly, interrupting her. “It’s just,” wow, this was a lot more embarrassing than she had thought. Best to get it out all at once. “I haven’t cum in a while and I’ve been thinking of you and how sexy you are and you felt so good in between my legs-“ Sabah realized she was babbling and that Tawnee was trying not to grin. “Anyways,” she continued, her face heating, “that shouldn’t happen again.”  
  
“Alright then,” Tawnee said, laughter underlaying her words. “Then I suppose we can get back to the,” she wiggled her eyebrows, “private dance. Anything you would like to try next?”  
  
Yes, as a matter of fact, Sabah could fill several pages with what she wanted to do to Tawnee and what she wanted Tawnee to do to her. However, since she couldn’t bring herself to even mention several of them, much less do them, that cut down on the options quite a bit. Still, there should still be enough on the list to leave Sabah an exhausted mess before the night was over.  
  
“I was wondering, how much milk do have right now?” Sabah asked, keeping her voice level in an act of herculean will.  
  
“Hhm,” Tawnee said, looking down at her huge boobs. She hefted one in both hands, her fingers slightly digging into it. “I milked myself last night, so that would have been twenty-two hours ago. And nothing since then, so I would say I’ve got a pretty good amount built up. Why? Do you want a taste?” Tawnee finished with a grin.  
  
“Yes,” Sabah said, using all of her will to keep her voice normal instead of desperate and pleading. “I would like that a lot.”  
  
“Sure thing, sweetie,” Tawnee said, sliding Sabah’s head off of her lap. “How do you want to do it? I can run downstairs and get my milking harness if you’d like. But I’ve got a feeling you want it direct from the tap, don’t you?” There was a knowing grin on her face as she smiled at Sabah.  
  
“Yes, I do,” Sabah replied with all the dignity she could muster. “If it’s comfortable for you, I was thinking you would sit on the edge of the bed and I could suck on you from there.”  
  
“Sounds good,” Tawnee replied, scooting herself forward so her legs dangled off the side of the circular bed. “Just remember, don’t use your teeth, alright? I am _very_ sensitive on my nipples.”  
  
“Right, right,” Sabah replied, nodding.  
  
Sabah climbed off the bed and quickly walked around in front of Tawnee. She sank to her knees and frowned. That was too low, unless she wanted to suck on Tawnee’s hip. She raised herself up a bit and winced. Her squatting position would probably get really uncomfortable pretty soon. Well, she’d just have to tough it out.  
  
Opening her mouth, Sabah reached out with both hands and grabbed Tawnee’s left breast. It felt so very wonderful in her hands. Warm and soft, and Sabah could swear she felt liquid shifting around inside it. And the soft sound Tawnee made, and the way her back stiffened were also wonderful.  
  
Leaning in, Sabah carefully placed her mouth over Tawnee’s nipple. It was a bit of a struggle to get her mouth over the bell ends of the dancer’s nipple piercings without having them rub against Sabah’s teeth. But she figured out a suitable enough method.  
  
And then it was time to start sucking. Carefully keeping her teeth away from Tawnee’s nipple, Sabah inhaled, just like she was trying to get some milkshake out of a straw. Nothing happened at first, and Sabah sucked harder.  
  
And then she could taste it. A warm trickle of something sweet ran into Sabah’s mouth. Both she and Tawnee moaned, feeling it. There was barely enough there for Sabah to get a proper taste, but all that meant was that she had to do it again. And that wasn’t a problem.  
  
This time the spurt of milk was much thicker. It filled up Sabah’s mouth, covering her tongue in Tawnee’s sweet flavor. Sabah wondered if all human milk tasted this good. She kept on sucking and slowly squeezing Tawnee’s breast with her fingers.  
  
Part of Sabah thought that it would be a treat to just grope Tawnee’s breasts and nothing more. Sabah had a high appreciation for breasts and Tawnee’s had to be the best pair she had ever gotten to see in person. They were so big and soft and big and wonderful. And big. Sabah was very impressed with the size of them.  
  
Sabah squeezed down, pumping another shot of milk into her mouth. Some of it even ran out of her mouth, dripping down her chin to splatter on her own breasts. Man, Sabah was loving this taste. Maybe she should abandon her plans to set up her boutique and instead make her living selling Tawnee’s milk to people. There’d be no end of customers once word got out how tasty it was. Or maybe combine the two. Sure, a fashion shop that sold human milk sounded a bit out there, but Sabah was sure she could make it work.  
  
Sabah was thinking about what lines of clothing she would design if she could get Tawnee to come work for her as a model. Right now, the main idea floating in her head was making a cowgirl outfit. She already knew Tawnee could pull that off from the special striptease she had done that first time Sabah had come here. But Sabah knew she could make a design that was ten times better than that.  
  
Of course, a cowgirl outfit was, by its very nature, kind of fetishistic. Sabah had always thought that she would be making more classy outfits, something that would show off her subjects non-sexualized beauty. But with Tawnee, or for Tawnee, she could swallow her integrity enough to make an outfit that boasted of Tawnee’s liquid bounty. Maybe something with cow horns and a tail.  
  
Sabah wasn’t paying attention to how much milk Tawnee was actually squirting into her mouth. It was just an endless flow of extremely good taste. She kept on squeezing and sucking and feeling her stomach get fuller and fuller.  
  
It was even kind of comforting, really. Sabah just had to keep working to get a seemingly endless supply of warm, tasty milk. Sabah could feel herself calming down, the stress and worry she always had to deal with receding, at least a bit. All she had to do was focus on getting as much milk as she could.  
  
In fact, Sabah sucked Tawnee’s left breast dry. And she didn’t even realize she had done so until Tawnee grabbed her shoulder and shook it. Blinking in surprise, she lifted her head up from the stiff nipple and looked up at Tawnee.  
  
The dancer smiled, her cheeks rosy. She reached down to wipe a bit of milk off of Sabah’s chin and then licked it clean. Sabah swallowed at the erotic display.  
  
“Thank you for all the hard work, Sabah,” Tawnee said in a warm voice. “But that breast is quite empty. If you’re not to full, maybe you’d like to try the other one?” Tawnee lifted her right breast up, offering it for inspection.  
  
That was a real struggle for Sabah. She had really, really enjoyed nursing at Tawnee’s tit. But she _was_ feeling kind of full. If she drank much more milk, then she might not have the energy to do, well, all the various kinds of fun two consenting women could have with each other.  
  
  
“I’ll come back to that later,” Sabah said, leaning back. “What do you want to do next?”  
  
“Isn’t that my question?” Tawnee replied, raising her eyebrows and smiling. “After all, you’re the client tonight. I’m just the entertainment.”  
  
“Oh, right,” Sabah said, blushing a bit. She’d forgotten that. “Well, how about a…”  
  
A dozen ideas flashed through Sabah’s mind at once. She struggled to pick just one. They were all so good. Well, she could probably forget the one where her ninth-grade History teacher was part of a threesome with her and Tawnee. That might be a bit difficult to arrange  
  
“How about we do a 69?” Sabah asked. A flash of heat from her wet pussy told her just how good of an idea that was. “I could get on the bed and we could take care of each other.”  
  
“That sounds wonderful,” Tawnee replied with a grin, making Sabah’s heart race.  
  
Tawnee helped Sabah get onto the bed, gently guiding her down onto the red covers. Sabah was starting to feel a bit nervous again. She was about to get judged on her ability to make another woman feel good. Even if Tawnee didn’t say anything about a disappointing performance, Sabah would still bear the shame of not measuring up. So she had better do a damn good job.  
  
Sabah told herself that as Tawnee swung around and then lowered herself down. Sabah licked her dry lips as Tawnee’s wet, shaved pussy filled more and more of her view. She could also feel puffs of breath from Tawnee hitting her own, equally wet, pussy. And then it was time to get licking.  
  
Sticking out her tongue and raising her head, Sabah grabbed Tawnee’s thighs, wrapping her arms around them. Sending up a quiet prayer, she started licking, pressing her tongue against Tawnee’s clit and then running it up along the length of Tawnee’s slit.  
  
Sabah came away with a mouthful of Tawnee’s flavor. It wasn’t quite as satisfying as her milk, but Sabah thought she could keep it down. Especially since Tawnee was already going at Sabah’s lips at a mile a minute.  
  
Now that Sabah had calmed down a bit from her first orgasm, she could recognize just how good Tawnee was at eating out other women. Sabah wondered where she had gotten this much practice. And even as she thought that, an answer came to her. Sure, it wasn’t a very likely answer, but it was the one she _wished_ was true.  
  
Surely Tawnee and all the other dancers here practiced their skills on each other. The back rooms must be a constant lesbian orgy, female flesh sliding over each other as they made sure they constantly kept up their skills to pleasure other women. Oh, what a sight that would be.  
  
Sabah wore a goofy smile as she licked Tawnee, doing her best to keep pace with the younger yet far more experienced woman. That was a thought that deserved some more consideration once Sabah was alone and feeling horny. Or maybe, if Sabah somehow had a lot of money she had no use for (yeah right), she could pay for Tawnee and some of her fellow dancers to do that.  
  
Sabah could feel Tawnee’s juices making a mess of her face, making her makeup run. Her tongue and fingers were constantly busy, licking and prodding and stroking at Tawnee’s exposed flower. And Tawnee was making some sweet, sweet sounds in exchange. From both sets of lips, in fact.  
  
Sabah did the best job she could playing with Tawnee, licking and sucking. And hoping that she would be able to make Tawnee cum within a minute or so of her own orgasm. It would be embarrassing, after all, to have to keep on working at Tawnee’s pussy long after Sabah herself had cum.  
  
Thankfully, that shouldn’t happen (Sabah hoped, crossing her fingers). After all, while nursing at Tawnee’s breast had been _very_ hot, it hadn’t come close to making Sabah cum. But it had worked wonders with Tawnee. So hopefully, even though Sabah was a lot less skilled than Tawnee was, Tawnee had started out at a higher state of arousal.  
  
Telling herself that, Sabah kept licking. As she did so, she became aware of the weight of Tawnee’s breasts pressing down against her lower stomach. It sure was a nice feeling, having the heavy yet soft weights pressing against her skin. Sabah wondered if she would ever feel a bit of milk against her stomach, if Tawnee would spurt out a few drops when she came. That would be hot.  
  
And Sabah thought she would have the chance to find out soon. The way Tawnee’s lips were quivering around her tongue and fingers told her that the dancer should be close to her orgasm. And just in time, too. Sabah was feeling pretty close to her own climax, relentlessly driven there by Tawnee’s skilled ministrations.  
  
“Oh! Oooohh!”  
  
Tawnee moaned out her orgasm into Sabah’s pussy, pressing her face against Sabah’s folds. That was a really wonderful experience, letting Sabah feel the vibrations travel through her. Most of Sabah’s attention, though was taken up with the bath she was getting from Tawnee’s other set of lips.  
  
Sabah had thought she’d been getting covered with Tawnee’s arousal before. But she had no idea of just how wet Tawnee got when she came. It felt like Sabah’s entire face was getting covered in a thick layer of feminine cum, spreading the sticky, translucent liquid all over her face. Sabah gasped and spluttered, not quite believing just how much Tawnee was cumming.  
  
  
Sabah was forced to swallow as a lot of Tawnee’s orgasm ended up in her open mouth. She could feel the liquid going down her throat to end up in her stomach, swirling around with the milk already there.  
  
Tawnee didn’t take too long to cum. Pretty soon, she was back at work between Sabah’s legs, bringing the fashion student the rest of the way to her climax. Sabah shook around underneath Tawnee, drowning out the music with her cries of orgasm.  
  
It was like a knot was unraveling inside of Sabah. She felt so clean and empty and satisfied at the end, like everything was going to be alright now. Sabah’s head hit the pillow, a smile forming on her face. That had been good. That had really been very good.  
  
Sabah lifted her head just enough to watch Tawnee crawl off of her and lay down next to her. The dancer snaked a hand underneath Sabah’s head and turned it to face her. Tawnee smiled at her, which made her heart beat faster. Sabah smiled back at her, inching her body closer to Tawnee.  
  
“How are you feeling?” Tawnee asked, her eyes running up and down Sabah’s body.  
  
“Great!” Sabah replied eagerly. “I am feeling a bit tired though. This has all been a bit more fun than I’m used to.”  
  
“We’ve still got hours and hours left,” Tawnee said, waving her hand around. “If you want to take a nap or something, I could wake you after half an hour or so.”  
  
Sabah paused. The thought was tempting. She _could_ feel the fatigue behind her eyes. But she knew that if she missed even a second with this black-haired goddess, she’d be kicking herself later on.  
  
“No, I’m good,” Sabah said. “How about we just rest a bit. We can talk about… stuff,” she finished lamely.  
  
“Of course,” Tawnee said with a shrug, doing interesting things to her chest. “Anything in particular you’d like to discuss?”  
  
“Well, I’m studying fashion at the local college…” Sabah replied, not expecting to have her offer actually taken up.  
  
“Really?” Tawnee said. “I didn’t even know BBCC had a program like that. It’s so tiny, after all.”  
  
“Yeah, with just me, I make up a double digit percentage of the students there,” Sabah said. “I only just started the program about half a year ago. It’s interesting work.”  
  
“I bet,” Tawnee said, nodding. “So are you planning to start off on your own when you graduate or are you going to go work for someone else?”  
  
The two of them chatted for ten minutes or so, mostly about Sabah. Sabah only realized that later, along side the realization that Tawnee had been consistently interested and encouraging her. How much of that was real, and how much of it was a… _dancer_ making her client feel special? There was no real way to tell. Still, it had made Sabah feel good about herself, which wasn’t something to be discounted.  
  
And it let Sabah get enough energy for another round with Tawnee. The Arabian girl had just sat up and reached out for Tawnee’s bountiful chest when the dancer held up a finger and slipped off the bed. Turning back around to face Sabah, she smiled apologetically.  
  
“Sorry about that, but give me a second. There’s something I’d like you to try.”  
  
“Okay,” Sabah said, somewhat worried. Sexual surprises were rather worrying, but she did have some confidence in Tawnee’s superior erotic skills to make Sabah feel good.  
  
Tawnee walked over to the dresser pushed against the side of the room. Sabah had looked inside that when she had arrived, and had immediately closed it, face red. She hadn’t recognized everything inside there, but the sex toys she _had_ known were enough to make her heart race. Especially for a girl who had only gotten her first vibrator once she had left her parent’s home.  
  
Sabah watched with her mouth dry as Tawnee pulled out a toy from it. Sabah could recognize a double-ended dildo when she saw one, even if she had only seen such a thing online before. Tawnee smirked at her, waving the black shaft from side to side.  
  
“Ready for the real fun to start?” Tawnee asked in a smoky voice that reached straight down Sabah’s spine and punched a button marked _lust_.  
  
Sabah nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Tawnee softly chuckled at that, and walked over to her, swaying her hips from side to side as she went. She stopped when she was right in front of the bed, less than a foot away from Sabah.  
  
“Now watch closely,” Tawnee instructed Sabah as she spread her legs far apart.  
  
Tawnee grabbed the dildo and held it in front of her crotch. Winking at Sabah, she used her other hand to spread her lower lips apart, revealing her wet, pink insides. Sabah watched closely indeed. She could even see a drop of dew appear inside Tawnee’s folds.  
  
Then her view was cut off as Tawnee slid her end of the toy inside her. Tawnee sighed in a tone of satisfaction as her pussy was stuffed with the dildo. Sabah glanced up at the contented smile she wore before her eyes fell back to the shaft jutting out from her pussy.  
  
Tawnee gave it a few tugs before nodding in satisfaction. Then she looked up at Sabah and smiled. Sabah smiled nervously back, still not quite able to believe what was about to happen. That dildo was thicker than anything she had taken before, and she had no idea what it would feel like inside her. But if Tawnee could take it (and the thicker end, even), then Sabah could too.  
  
As Tawnee climbed onto the bed, Sabah laid down on her back. She spread her legs apart widely, giving Tawnee as much access as she would need. Despite her concerns, Sabah couldn’t deny that she was still wet.  
  
Tawnee crawled in between Sabah’s legs, looming over the shorter, yet older, woman. Tawnee guided the fake phallus down until its rounded end was just barely starting to part Sabah’s folds. And there she stopped.  
  
“Tawnee? I think I’m ready-!”  
  
Tawnee laid a finger over Sabah’s lips in a shushing gesture. Sabah obediently stopped talking and stared up at Tawnee. Tawnee smiled and ran her hand down Sabah’s body to her hip.  
  
“Turn over, baby. And get on your hands and knees.”  
  
Sabah gasped as she saw what Tawnee was planning. And she also hurried to obey. She quickly rose on all fours, presenting her rear to Tawnee. Sabah looked back behind her at the dancer, wondering how it would feel to be taken in this position.  
  
“You wouldn’t believe how pretty you look like this,” Tawnee said in a low, awed voice.  
  
That made Sabah feel, somehow, even _more_ aroused. That this wonderful, sexy goddess thought she looked hot made her feel so good. And the actual sensation of something large and cool tracing its way down Sabah’s soaked slit made her feel even better.  
  
And when Tawnee actually entered her? That felt best of all.  
  
Sabah made a high-pitched keening sound as her pussy was slowly and steadily split apart by the dildo. She could feel her walls getting wrapped around the intruder, and electric shocks ran through her body as it stimulated her. She could feel Tawnee’s hands on her hips, holding her firmly in place as she went deeper and deeper inside her.  
  
“Almost there,” Tawnee murmured. “Just a few more inches to go.”  
  
That was good to hear, because Sabah could only _take_ a few more inches. She had never felt so stuffed before. It was like she was sitting on a baseball bat, only pleasurable. Sabah’s eyes were closed and her lips were forming soundless prayers as Tawnee slid deeper and deeper into her.  
  
“There we go,” Tawnee said. “Good job, Sabah!”  
  
She leaned forward to talk directly into Sabah’s ear. That made the would-be fashion designer moan as the toy shifted around inside her. How could straight girls handle something this size inside them every time they had sex?  
  
“And now we can really get down to business,” Tawnee announced in a matter of fact tone.  
  
Sabah’s eyes widened as she realized what that meant. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell Tawnee to stop. And once Tawnee started going, there was no chance she could get the breath to say anything at all.  
  
Tawnee was an aggressive lover, at least with the strap-on. She didn’t give Sabah much of a chance to get comfortable. Instead, she started fucking Sabah hard, drawing her hips back and pushing them forward again and again, driving the dildo in and out of Sabah’s wet, increasingly stretched core.  
  
Sabah moaned and groaned, feeling the heat from the fucking rise up through her body. It was feeling good, so much better than she could have expected. Even though it was rougher and more energetic than Sabah had thought she liked, she couldn’t bring herself to want Tawnee to stop.  
  
Tawnee certainly knew what she was doing. Her steady, forceful thrusts were turning Sabah into a squirming mess. Sabah wasn’t sure how much longer she would be able to keep herself upright, before her arms gave out and her face fell down onto the bed. Hopefully it would happen after an orgasm, so she could justify it (to herself at least) as post-orgasmic weakness.  
  
“How are you feeling, baby?” Tawnee asked. Her tone was warm and curious.  
  
“I feel great,” Sabah moaned. “I’m feeling so good, please don’t ever stop!”  
  
Sabah was feeling more than good, but she didn’t know the words to properly express how she felt. Maybe English didn’t even have them. All she knew was that she was feeling better than she had thought possible.  
  
Sabah wouldn’t mind feeling this good forever. For a second, her mind flashed into fantasy. Her, as the chief part of Tawnee’s harem. Dressed in long, loose, colored silks that were held on her body by even more piercings than she already had, lounging around on pillows and in baths until Tawnee was ready for another vigorous night of lovemaking.  
  
Sabah had never had a dream like that before, but it sounded _very_ appealing. So appealing, in fact, it was just enough to push her over the edge into orgasm.  
  
Sabah didn’t see any reason to keep her voice down. She cried out loudly as her inner walls squeezed down tightly around the fake penis. Her entire body shook as she came, limbs quivering and head shaking as her orgasm surged through her.  
  
Thankfully, Tawnee stopped thrusting into her as Sabah came. Instead, she moved her hands up from Sabah’s hips and enveloped the smaller woman in a hug. Sabah found the gesture almost as nice as her orgasm, and she clutched at Tawnee’s hands tightly.  
  
Sabah could feel her arousal dripping out of her and making a mess of the bed sheets. And she didn’t care at all. So long as she and Tawnee could stay right here like this, that was more than enough for her. Sabah closed her eyes, enjoying the post-orgasm warmth and the feel of Tawnee holding her in a hug.  
  
Sabah didn’t even open her eyes when Tawnee started speaking to her. Instead, she just made soft noises that could have meant anything at all.  
  
“Did that feel as good as it looked, sweety?”  
  
“Hhm.”  
  
“I’m glad to hear that.” There was a note of amusement in Tawnee’s voice. “Do you need another break to rest and recharge?”  
  
“Mmph.”  
  
Not even Sabah could have said what that meant. But she did think it over. On the one hand, spending more time wrapped in Tawnee’s arms like this would feel amazing. On the other, Sabah was still feeling horny, and was up for some more fun.  
  
“No, I’m ready for another round.”  
  
Sabah’s voice was drowsy and unconvincing, but it was enough for Tawnee to pull out of her and roll off the bed. Sabah’s face flickered with momentary sadness at losing the dildo, but she had confidence in Tawnee’s ability to find something to replace it.  
  
Rolling onto her back, Sabah lifted her head to look at what Tawnee was doing. And what she saw sent red coursing through Sabah’s cheeks. Most of Sabah’s sexual experience may have been online, but she had seen enough there to recognize a riding crop when she saw one. And she could also recognize a rope bondage getup.  
  
Both of those things, intriguing as they were, paled next to what Tawnee was fussing over. Sabah had no idea where the tall, leggy dancer had pulled the sybians from. But each of them had a thick black dildo jutting out from them. Sabah swallowed nervously. This could either be really fun, or really weird. Or both.  
  
  
“What are you planning, Tawnee?” Sabah asked hesitantly.  
  
“Can’t you guess?” Tawnee asked with a grin. “Get over here, so I can help you onto this thing.”  
  
Somewhat gingerly, Sabah climbed off the circular bed and joined Tawnee. The big-boobed woman pointed at the toys she had assembled.  
  
“Feel free to pick what you want to play with next. That rope will fit either one of us, if you want it to.”  
  
Sabah nodded thoughtfully, staring at the toys. As… _intriguing_ as the thought of one of them tied up was, she was going to have to pass on that one. For today, at least. Instead, the chance to get some face to face time with her angel of lust sounded too good to pass up.  
  
“Let’s use those,” Sabah said, pointing at the sybians.  
  
“You’re the boss,” Tawnee said with a smile and a shrug.  
  
She quickly rearranged them so the machines were facing each other. And almost as quickly, she sank down on one of them. Sabah could hear the lewd sounds as her pussy was forced apart by the thick black dildo. Thankfully, Sabah’s own machine had a much smaller, pink toy mounted to it.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Sabah sat down on the free machine. She had never used one of these before, but it seemed pretty simple. All she had to do was- oh, that felt nice.  
  
Sabah outright purred as she felt her walls once again get spread apart by an intruder. This time, though, it wasn’t nearly as big. And a good thing too, since Sabah could imagine how much the toy would vibrate and move around inside her.  
  
Sabah sank down as far as she could go. And once she felt the inside of her thighs pressing against the cool plastic of the casing, she looked up at Tawnee. Her goddess was looking down at her, smiling. Even better, the two of them were so close to each other that they could thoroughly enjoy each other’s bodies with their hands and mouths.  
  
Especially their mouths. Sabah’s mouth watered at the thought of getting the chance to drain Tawnee’s other breast of its load of milk. But first, she’d have to- Sabah frowned.  
  
“How do you turn this thing on, Tawn-!!”  
  
Tawnee grinned as she pressed a button in both of her hands. Both of the machines whirred to life, the fake cock inside each woman starting to move and vibrate. Tawnee tossed one controller over to Sabah, who barely managed to catch it.  
  
“That one controls my toy,” Tawnee said in between deep gasps, “and this one,” she held the remote in her hand, “is yours.” There was a twinkle in her eyes. “Let’s have some _fun_.”  
  
This felt so much better than Sabah’s vibrator ever had, she realized. For one, she hadn’t realized how nice it felt to have the insides of her pussy stimulated, instead of just her labia and clit. Not that the toy ignored those either. There was a pleasant little prong that pressed right against her button.  
  
The machine ramped up its pace, both the speed of the thrusts and the intensity of the vibrations increasing. Sabah could feel it making her whole body jiggle as it thrust into her, reaching deep inside her. How had she gone so not realizing how good having a (fake) cock inside her felt? Any future girlfriends would have to be okay with strap-ons, Sabah decided.  
  
“Oh! Ooh!”  
  
Sabah moaned as Tawnee leaned forward, one hand grabbing Sabah’s breast, and the other disappearing behind her back to grab her rear. Sabah stiffened at the contact, before melting into it. She reached out in turn, both of her hands going for Tawnee’s breasts. And her head going in for a kiss.  
  
The two of them embraced, locking lips in a passionate kiss as their bodies brushed against each other. It felt wonderful and Sabah moaned into the kiss, feeling Tawnee and her toys at work in her body. They had to break apart eventually, though the feeling of Tawnee’s lips pressed against Sabah’s lingered. She thought she might be feeling and remembering that for days, in fact.  
  
Sabah realized that one of her hands was feeling a bit wet. Drawing it away, she looked down at it. There was white speckled on her palm. Then she looked up at Tawnee’s right breast. There was milk there too. She had almost forgotten about that.  
  
“Is it okay,” Sabah gasped out, “if I, well-“ It was too embarrassing to say what she actually wanted to do.  
  
“Yeah, feel free,” Tawnee said. “It’s actually kind of distracting having one breast full and the other empty.” Her words were breathy, like she wasn’t paying close attention.  
  
Having gotten all the permission she needed, Sabah leaned in, licking her lips as she did so. She couldn’t wait for some more of Tawnee’s warm, delicious milk. She opened her mouth wide, looking for that bouncing nipple.  
  
And what Sabah got was a face full of breast. Hardly a bad thing, but not the leaky teat she was looking for. Reluctantly drawing back from the warm, soft flesh rubbing against her face, she tried again.  
  
And failed again. This time, Sabah was pressed more against Tawnee’s shoulder than her breast. Frowning, Sabah leaned back to reconsider her approach. Tawnee’s muffled giggles drew her attention upward a bit.  
  
“Sorry, sorry,” Tawnee said apologetically, “but that’s- wow! I, uh, don’t think we can manage that while we’re both bouncing around on these.”  
  
“You’re right,” Sabah sighed sadly. “But once we get off-“ Tawnee snorted, and Sabah recognized her unintentional pun. “We get off, I’m taking that other wonderful breast.”  
  
“Sure thing, baby,” Tawnee groaned. “But until thine, let’s have some fun, okay?” And with a grin, she flicked her control up a notch.  
  
Sabah moaned as the pace of the vibrations inside her increased. Half-laughing, half-gasping, she increased the speed of Tawnee’s device in retaliation. Soon, the two of them had put each other on the fastest, hardest settings the machines could handle. And they were both loving the results.  
  
It was hard to get her eyes to focus, but Sabah thought that Tawnee was in danger of getting hit in the face with her own breasts, given how much they were bouncing. It was obvious that the speed and the power of the machine wasn’t quite enough for the dancer, and she was actually bouncing up and down on it, her powerful thighs propelling her along it.  
  
Sabah kindly made sure Tawnee wasn’t at risk of injuring herself by reaching forward and grabbing both of her breasts. She kneaded them, feeling the soft flesh slide through her fingers. Tawnee did the same to her, playing with Sabah’s more modest booty and bust.  
  
The two of them spend what certainly _felt_ like a long time groping each other’s bodies and riding the vibrators. Sabah thought of it as an absolutely wonderful time, that she never wanted to have end, even as the lust inside her grew and grew. After some unknowable time, though, Tawnee pulled away. Reaching down, she grabbed the controller off the floor where she had left it.  
  
“Hey, hey, Sabah,” Tawnee said, gasping for air in between words. “See the oval button at the bottom?” It was a struggle for Sabah to look away from Tawnee’s bouncing breasts to her controller. “That? That one controls the fake cum.” Sabah’s eyes widened and she looked back up at Tawnee’s flushed face.  
  
“That’s right,” Tawnee said, nodding. “When you’re ready-!” She broke off and panted for several seconds. “When you’re ready, press that, and the fake cum inside these things will shoot out! Oh, yes!”  
  
Any further questions Sabah had would obviously have to wait as Tawnee came. The dancer hunched forward, hands falling to the floor to support herself. The sweet sounds of her gasping were music to Sabah’s ears.  
  
After half of a minute of orgasmic convulsions, Tawnee was on control enough to look back up at Sabah. Smiling, she tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear. Taking a deep breath, she started talking again.  
  
“Perfect way to end this, huh? A nice, hot creampie, right inside you!”  
  
Sabah was a lot less enthused about the idea than Tawnee was. But she was willing right now to try things out she never would have dreamed of before she’d entered this room. And it was only fake cum, after all. It hadn’t cum from a real guy. And it was for Tawnee. That was another, even more important factor.  
  
Her sexual angel wanted her to do this. To expand her horizons in a way that she wouldn’t have expected a few hours ago. Sabah took a deep breath and nodded. She could do this. At least once. And who knew? She might even like it.  
  
Putting her finger over the button, Sabah looked up at Tawnee. The dancer smiled back at her and held her own remote up.  
  
“Whenever you’re ready, baby. Just press the button, and I’ll do the same.”  
  
Sabah squared her shoulders. Not an easy task, since she wanted to hunch herself forward and wrap herself around the machine that was reaching so deeply inside her. But she managed it and locked eyes with Tawnee.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Sabah pushed the button. Tawnee did the same, less than a second behind her. And then a star exploded inside Sabah’s lower belly.  
  
“Oh! Oh, oh, ohhh!”  
  
Sabah thrashed around on top of the machine, eyes rolling up in the back of her head. She hadn’t thought it would feel this good! But she could feel the hot, sticky fake cum shooting deep inside her. She twisted around, feeling the liquid reaching inside her, covering every inch of her walls. Was this what straight women got to feel when a guy came inside them? That might almost be enough to make sleeping with a man worth it.  
  
Sabah was so surprised at what getting creampied felt like she didn’t really realize that she was cumming. She moaned and shivered, but thought that was what it naturally felt like to get cummed in, at least when a woman was already aroused as she was. She only realized that she had just had an orgasm when her pussy stopped squeezing down on the dildo.  
  
Tawnee was a lot less wild in her movements than Sabah was. Probably because of how often she had taken loads of real cum, though Sabah didn’t like to think of her goddess as doing that sort of thing. At any rate, Tawnee just had a large smile on her face as she slumped bonelessly on top of the machine.  
  
After a few seconds, Tawnee pulled herself back up. She smiled at Sabah and reached up to pat her cheek. Her other hand ran down Sabah’s body to rest on her crotch.  
  
“How was it, baby? Did it feel as good as it looked from over here?”  
  
“Yes,” Sabah admitted, blushing. “I, uh, yeah, it felt good. Feels kind of funny inside me though,” she added, shifting from side to side and feeling the artificial cum moving around inside her.  
  
“Yeah, I know,” Tawnee said. “Normally I’d say I’d lick it out of you,” Sabah brightened up at that idea, “but this stuff really doesn’t taste as good as real cum. So I’d suggest using the shower downstairs later.”  
  
Sabah nodded, though she was a bit worried at the idea of doing a walk of shame down to where ever this shower actually was. It could wait, though. The cum didn’t feel bad inside her, even now that the machine had stopped-  
  
Right, the machine had stopped. Blushing, Sabah scooped up her controller from off the floor and turned Tawnee’s sybian off as well. Chuckling, the black-haired woman smiled at her.  
  
“I was wondering how long it would take you to notice that,” Tawnee said. “So what would you like to do next? We’ve still got a long time together.”  
  
“I’d--- oh.”  
  
Sabah’s train of thought was derailed as Tawnee stood up. Her pussy made a lewd slurping sound as it left the dildo. But a lot more interesting was the flow of white that poured out from Tawnee’s lower lips as she stood up. Sabah swallowed as the fake semen ran along Tawnee’s thighs and dripped down onto the machine. Was the same going to happen to her when _she_ stood up? Sabah hadn’t even thought she had that much artificial cum inside her!  
  
“You know, _I_ don’t like the taste of this stuff,” Tawnee said, running a finger through the white running down her leg. “But if you want to spend some time using your tongue to get me nice and clean, I’m not going to say no.”  
  
The thought of getting to spend more time between Tawnee’s legs was tempting. But if she thought that the cum didn’t taste good, Sabah was willing to take her word for it. Not that she was opposed to doing some sucking on other parts of Tawnee’s body.  
  
“No, thank you,” Sabah said. She had to pause as she raised herself off of the dildo buried inside her.  
  
“Ah, oh!” Sabah’s moans as she felt the shaft leave her were quite loud. And she followed that up with some more moaning as the cum ran out of her. Tawnee had to steady Sabah as she swayed, not used to the feeling of so much thick liquid running out from her.  
  
“I think I’d like to get rid of the rest of your milk now, please,” Sabah said, still unsteady on her feet.  
  
“Sure thing,” Tawnee said cheerily. She hefted her right breast, letting Sabah examine it. “After all, you’re the boss. If you want it, we’ll do it.”  
  
That was nice of her to say so, but Sabah just couldn’t see herself as being really dominant over Tawnee. Something about the big-boobed dancer just made Sabah want to lay back and let the younger woman with far more experience take care of everything, bringing Sabah to height after height of pleasure. And helping Sabah try things she never would have dreamed of.  
  
As the two of them settled down onto the bed, Sabah smiled. She didn’t want tonight to ever end. And when it sadly would, at least Sabah knew she could be spending a lot more time here, with her goddess.  
  
Life was looking good for Sabah.  


*******

The rain wasn’t helping my mood. I knew the shower couldn’t possibly be connected with what was on the news. Not with Brockton Bay being so far away. It had to just be a natural rainstorm. But listening to it beat on the roof as I paced back and forth was doing nothing to calm me down.  
  
The small part of me that was staying rational couldn’t believe my shitty luck. I rarely visited Dad anymore. Like, maybe once a week, with enough awkwardness between the two of us to last me an entire month. It wasn’t even as if we had stuff to talk about, since I couldn’t tell him about the club, or theUndersiders, or _anything_.  
  
The two of us just sat around, long, uncomfortable silences filled by abortive questions or stories about what I supposed were the good old days. All very horrible, though I supposed it meant I still had the best home life of any of my friends in the Undersiders.  
  
So of course the Endbringer alarm would go off during my visit. Not here, thank God. But down in Baltimore. I had no idea what made Leviathan choose there over anywhere else, but at least it was far enough away we wouldn’t be hit.  
  
Dad had tried to get me to stay there with him, so we could watch the news together. But I knew I couldn’t. And I couldn’t even tell him why. I knew I wasn’t exactly a good person, but I hoped I was good enough to not just sit out an Endbringer attack. If you were a parahuman, you were _supposed_ to go out and fight them. I felt like throwing up, and had ever since I heard the sirens, but I was still going to do it.  
  
And how could I tell Dad that? He didn’t know I was a parahuman. And I couldn’t tell him that now. Not that I was a parahuman, and working with villains, and that I was going to fight an _Endbringer_. That would kill him.  
  
Instead, I tried to leave with some godawful story about something or other. Dad had read the guilt written all over my face and hadn’t believed a word I had said. That stung, irrationally. Having my word questioned like that, even as I badly lied.  
  
And then it turned out Dad had called my grandma. Not him mom, but my mom’s mom. The one who thought her little girl had thrown her life away getting married to a dockworker. I couldn’t imagine how tough it would have been for both of them to talk about me. But she had given Dad some advice. Oh, had she.  
  
I’d only discovered the back door was locked when I tried to leave. That was when I’d found out that he’d called Grandma. And that had been when the fight had really started. Dad had wanted to know about… hell, everything. Where I was every day and every night, why I had dropped out of school, an endless stream of questions I didn’t have a prayer of answering.  
  
We’d ended up screaming at each other, a wound that was still so raw I didn’t even want to think about it too closely. The fight had finally ended when I had texted Lisa to come and pick me up. That had brought up some new questions, like when I had gotten a cell phone.  
  
By the time Lisa had come, god, I didn’t want to think about. Just remembering the look in Dad’s eyes as I climbed out a window was like a dagger in my gut. I didn’t know if I was ever coming back to my home. Hell, I was about to fight an Endbringer. I didn’t know if I was coming back, period.  
  
And now all I could do was pace back and forth in the loft, waiting for the rest of the team to get here. If they did come. Baltimore wasn’t our city. Would they all be willing to go die for a city they’d never been to and for people they’d never met? The faces of Alec and Rachel flashed through my mind.  
  
I was feeling sick to my stomach. Part of me wanted to use that as an excuse not to go, to stay here and watch the rain fall. But even though I felt like throwing up, I told myself _no_. I was better than that. I didn’t know what good I was going to do, going down south to fight, but it was still something that I had to do.  
  
I just wished I felt better about this.

* * *

  
A commission for Chojomeka. White Raven 2 (RWBY) is up on Patreon. Next is Maid to Serve 2 (Worm) for Harpy81

**Author's Note:**

> A commission for Chojomeka


End file.
